


Getting Domestic: A New Old Problem

by mansikka



Series: Getting Domestic [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Case Fic, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Home, Hunters & Hunting, M/M, Protective Castiel, Protective Dean Winchester, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 21:18:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 34,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15179609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: Life is pretty sweet for the Winchesters. Dean has a steady stream of cars to fix in between finding time to gossip with the neighbors, while Cas' green fingers keep him so busy in the neighborhood that there is a touch of Cas in almost every yard they pass in the Impala on the way home. And Christopher is thriving, a happy, affectionate, beautiful boy, who is doing well in school and has a never-ending stream of friends.So when a newspaper story gets Dean's attention, it feels like a blast from the past that was their hunting life. He's both instinctively wanting to deal with it and needing to shield his family from any kind of harm. But how do he and Cas straddle the line between being responsible parents and caring neighbors, and their experience dealing with all things supernatural? How do they navigate between those two worlds, without causing any harm to their son?





	1. Monsters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dmsilvis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dmsilvis/gifts).



> Hello :)
> 
> So. Since the lovely dmsilvis has done art for this story and been one of its main cheerleaders along with desirae and wayward_mom throughout it posting, this is an addition to the Getting Domestic 'verse for her. And if you haven't already seen her beautiful work please go look at dmsilvis' [tumblr](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/).
> 
> It's a casefic, but it's a casefic within the world of Dean and Cas now that they've, well. Gone domestic. 
> 
> Thanks go to woahthisguy for looking over my summary and title <3
> 
> Enjoy! x

 

 

* * *

"So _that's_ where that sock got to," Dean says as he crawls back out from beneath Christopher's bed and holds it up for him to look at.

Christopher giggles, reaching out for the sock and giggling again when Dean pulls it out of his reach, pretending to sniff it and pulling a face. "The monster had cold feet."

"Oh, they did, huh?" Dean says as he sits back down on the side of the bed and absently straightens up the dinosaur plushie Mrs. Ferguson made for Christopher, that's barely left his side this past month.

"Yep," Christopher agrees, with an exaggerated pop of that final letter along with Cas' own brand of solemn nod that Dean can't help but smile for seeing the similarity of.

"Well. There's no monster under there now. I promise."

"Maybe he got too warm."

"Maybe he did," Dean agrees, squeezing Christopher's hand when he holds it out. "You gonna be okay now?"

Christopher came downstairs about ten minutes ago, rubbing his eyes and half-asleep, but adamant there was a monster under his bed. It happens every once in a while when he's had a bad dream, and Dean and Cas take it in turns to come up with new ways of reassuring him.

"I think so," Christopher replies as he wriggles to get more comfortable, pressing his head back hard into his pillow and yawning.

"Okay."

Dean straightens up Christopher's comforter unnecessarily then cups his cheek, and goes to stand. As always happens, whether it's him, or Cas, or both of them seeing him to bed, Christopher flings his arms open wide and kicks his heels back against the mattress. Dean leans down to hug him back, breathing in the smell of the fabric softener scenting his pajamas that, okay, Cas was right about smelling the best of all the brands they spent a good twenty minutes choosing in their local Target last weekend.

"You yell if you need us. Okay, buddy?"

"Okay," Christopher agrees, watching Dean as he gets up and walks around the bed. "Night, Dad."

"Goodnight," Dean replies, sure his cheeks are never going to stop feeling like they're splitting for just how hard hearing that word makes him smile. Even after how long it's been now since Christopher started saying it.

"I swear he gets this from you," Dean calls out as he makes his way through the kitchen, stopping to pick up the dish towel that's fallen on the floor. He kisses the back of Cas' neck in passing as he walks into the back room, watching as Cas prepares a batch of seeds from their garden.

"What?" Cas asks, leaning back for another kiss before Dean can pull away.

"Abandoned socks everywhere," Dean says, waving the tiny blue sock balled up in his hand before he turns and tosses it into the laundry hamper near the doorway of the laundry room, arms raised high in silent celebration at himself for not missing.

"Can Christopher, therefore, attribute his _icky finger_ fixation to you?" Cas asks with a small smile as Dean moves around to lean against the table, following his hands as he prepares the seeds.

"Sure don't get it from you," Dean retorts, grabbing Cas' soil-stained hand and pretending to inspect it. "You don't seem to care what kinda muck you get on your hands."

"You know, Dean," Cas says, returning to lining up a tray with jars, and packets, and if Dean's honest, all sorts of other things that he's still not sure what they all are despite Cas telling him in great detail repeatedly. "In ancient India, they had this shrub called Reetha, or _soapstone_ , that was used for washing both the hair and skin. And in the Mediterranean, people used to make a form of soap from olive oil and lye water extracted from the ashes of plants, including bay leaves, which they found to have antiseptic properties."

"Oh yeah?" Dean says, smiling helplessly for the concentration on Cas' face when he's trying to do two things at once, both finish his preparations for the garden and give _him_ a mini-lecture.

"Yes."

"And... your point?"

"My point," Cas says as he rests his hands on the side of a tray and looks up to smile at Dean, "is that _soap_ is a wonderful human invention. You should not be so afraid of getting dirty."

Dean smiles back at him, smiling harder knowing he's going to be the one that breaks away from this staring contest they're having, and throws his back in laughter at the triumphant look in Cas' eyes when he does.

"Well. You got a good point, there, Cas. I mean. I enjoy getting clean again," he says as he walks back around the table, loops his arms around Cas' waist and kisses his shoulder as he goes back to work.

"You do."

"You maybe wanna... wait an hour, make sure Christopher's asleep—"

"No monsters?"

"No monsters," Dean agrees, smiling it into Cas' shirt. "What say you and me open a couple of bottles of that new beer Greg brewed us and... take a soak in the bath?"

"Will you... help me with my neck?"

Dean hums in sympathy against Cas' shoulder and kisses at the spot that's still tender. Cas isn't sure how he did it, and it's much better now, but on finishing one of his new yards off for a neighbor a couple of streets over, he felt something pull. Since then he's had a couple of days where he's been grumbling for the pain of it, unable to get comfortable at times no matter how he's stood or sat.

"Sure," Dean says, kissing over the spot again, even raising his hand up and rubbing his thumb in a firm circle there. Cas lets out a soft groan, the jar he's holding clattering to the table as he angles his head away for Dean to continue.

"Good?"

"Very."

"Well. Imagine how much better it'll be with beer and a bath," Dean says, with another hard swirl of his thumb as he squeezes his arm around Cas' middle in a hug.

"It will be perfect," Cas agrees, turning his head just enough so Dean can see him smiling, before dropping it back to press against Dean's for a second, then nodding to the table.

"You finish up here," Dean says. "I'm gonna start some laundry. Fill in Christopher's book report."

"I think he will get an _A_ for his history homework," Cas says, and Dean can't help smiling yet again, this time for the smugness in his voice.

"I don't doubt it. Not with _you_ helping him out."

"I was merely—"

"Being an awesome teacher. And dad," Dean finishes for him with a final squeeze at Cas' waist before he steps away.

He can feel Cas smiling after him as he walks back through to the laundry room, and even hears him humming along when he starts to sing as he sorts through their laundry hamper.

* * *

_Oh shit._

Dean's knows that look. He might still be a few feet away from Cas, but even from this distance, he can make out his furious scowl. Dean speeds up to join him, waving back to Christopher as he calls out to him from the slide he's dancing on the top of, half-wincing in fear as he all but throws himself down. When he's sure Christopher is okay and even allows himself a burst of laughter for the way he cheers and races back around to go again, Dean comes to a stop at Cas' side and pastes on what he hopes is an easy smile.

"Hey, Mark," he says, recognizing the guy as the dad of Luke, one of the kids in Christopher's class.

Mark nods, and Dean catches the nervous way his eyes dart away from Cas' to his own then back again, as well as the awkward way he swallows.

"I was just informing Mark, that if Christopher has a single further nightmare about _crazy ghosts_ from the Topeka State Hospital coming to attack him in his sleep, that I will be calling to his house personally to discuss the... education, of his son."

"It's just kids," Mark protests, though he looks even more nervous as he says it. And why wouldn't he be? Dean knows that look on Cas' face only too well, has thankfully only been on the receiving end of it once or twice, and that was years ago, before, well. Everything. "You know how kids talk."

"Your son would not be talking of barbaric apparitions throttling young children in their sleep had you not given him the resources to talk about such things," Cas points out, in that quiet, seething way that it is not appropriate for Dean to be feeling what he's feeling about hearing.

"I—"

"Will speak to your son, and ensure this does not happen again," Cas finishes for him, his tone brokering no room for argument.

He even turns away before Mark can try to defend himself for a second time, leaving Dean to first rein in an apology that he doesn't even think Mark deserves, and then give his own death glare that leaves Mark stumbling backward.

"What you got there, Cas?" Dean says as he jogs to catch up with him, nodding towards the large piece of paper carefully pinched between his fingers making sure he doesn't crease it.

Cas slows from his angry march coming to a stop a few feet away from the slide Christopher is still hollering and yelling from, for racing up and down with his friends. They come to a stop, and Dean smiles as Cas opens out the sheet of paper to show him.

"This is your influence," Dean says as he kisses his shoulder, and rests his hand around Cas' waist.

There are bees lazily flying between the brightly colored flowers that Christopher has covered every inch of the paper with in thick brush strokes. There is a smudge of paint in the corner that has Christopher's thumbprint in, and Dean wonders how much of it he's going to have to try to get out of his school shirt.

"I like to think so."

"We're running out of fridge space."

"Perhaps we could add a board to the seed room," Cas adds, and Dean smiles behind Cas' shoulder for his insistence on claiming that back room as his own.

"Maybe," Dean replies, already with a half-plan in mind for making a kind of cork notice board that will take up most of the wall that isn't already covered in shelves.

"Dad. _Dad_ , come look!"

Christopher charges towards them, grabbing Cas' hand and tugging, and Dean just catches the painting before it flutters away. He follows them, coming to a stop again as Cas crouches down, with Christopher dropping to his knees and bracing one hand against Cas' thigh.

" _Look_ ," Christopher insists, and Dean peers down to look for himself.

There is a lizard, about three inches in length, that is frozen mid-climb up one of the wooden poles supporting the slide.

"It's beautiful," Cas says, leaning in a little closer to inspect it.

"Is it a baby dinosaur?" asks Christopher's friend Jason, who is crouched down next to Christopher and practically juddering in excitement.

"No, it isn't."

"But it looks just like one," Jason protests, nudging against Christopher as he says it.

"I _told_ you it wasn't a dinosaur," Christopher says with a snooty, authoritarian tone Dean decides comes from Cas.

"It does look a little similar, however," Cas says, smiling at the two boys. "This is an Eastern Collared Lizard."

"Does it bite?" Christopher asks, blinking up at him.

"I imagine no, not yet. Only if it is frightened. This one looks quite young."

Jason reaches out to touch the lizard, who has had quite enough of being inspected, and darts away out of sight.

"Jason. You coming for dinner tonight?" Dean asks as the two boys groan in disappointment for the lizard scampering to where they can't reach, reluctantly dragging themselves to their feet.

"No," Jason says with a heavy sigh. "Lacey's got band practice. We have to pick her up."

Lacey is Jason's older sister, and according to Jason, the least cool sibling it's possible to have in the world.

"Well. Some other time, then, huh?" Dean says as Christopher wraps his arm around him and begins to point out the flowers he painted earlier.

Jason's mom calls him then, and Dean watches him trail forlornly back to her, with a soft _bye_ for Christopher as he passes.

"Can we give this one to Nana?" Christopher says as he takes Dean's hand and they make their way back to the car. "I think it's too big for the baby."

Eileen is due in a matter of weeks, Dean thinks, smiling for Sam's increasingly frantic messages as he tries to prepare everything it's possible to prepare then keeps worrying he hasn't done enough.

"Sure, Bud," Dean replies, thinking of Mom's fridge also overflowing with Christopher's artwork, and planning a message to warn her to make more space.

"I am hungry," Cas announces as he reaches out to open the car door for Christopher and slips his bag from his shoulder.

"You wanna go to that pasta place you guys like so much?" Dean asks over the roof of the Impala as he waits to climb in, smiling for the cheer he can hear from inside the car. "I guess that's a yes."

"We should make use of the salad bar," Cas adds with a pointed look at him, leaving Dean ducking and smiling for their discussion about Christopher's _nutrition_.

"'K, Cas," he says as he gets in, smiling at him from across the seat.

* * *

Dean checks his watch and thinks Cas has about another ten minutes before he's finished with his reading, and makes his way to a table just out of Cas' eyeline so he can still hear him talk. He smiles at the joint gasped inhale of breath as they get to a scary part of the story, and doesn't have to see the kids all staring up at Cas from where they're sat cross-legged in front of him on the library floor to know they're mesmerized.

Dean checks his phone, answers a message from Charlie, then absently grabs the folded newspaper on the table and begins to flick through. Out of habit, he scans rather than reads, smiling at news stories that are a part of his world now, and so very different from the ones he used to look for.

One story catches his eye though, and stops him from turning to the next page. He skims the report again, pictures where the mobile blood donation unit the story talks about is, and grimaces at the thought of missing blood.

A collective shriek of laughter distracts him then, and Dean abandons the newspaper to stretch up and see what is happening. Cas' smile is delighted as he takes in all the expressions on the faces of those still watching him intently, before turning briefly to smile at Dean.

"What were you reading them?" Dean asks as they make their way out of the library a few minutes later, jogging down the steps and heading for the Impala.

"Revolting Rhymes. Roald Dahl."

"So _that's_ what Christopher was telling me when we were making dinner last night, huh?" Dean says with a burst of laughter, squeezing Cas' fingers briefly before they climb into the car.

"I would apologize—"

"But you wouldn't mean it," Dean finishes for him, leaning across the seat for a kiss.

"Dean," Cas replies, reaching out to cradle the back of Dean's neck and prevent him from pulling back.

Dean hums, leaning in closer, his hand stroking up Cas' thigh, and it isn't until there is a tap on the window that they pull apart. They both turn to smile and nod at Cas' colleague Simon, untangling with rueful glances at one another, before straightening up and clearing their throats for a stilted conversation with him until he announces he needs to start work.

"So. You free now, Cas?" Dean asks as they turn out on to the street.

"Yes."

"No last-minute yards to fix up I don't know about?"

"Not until tomorrow," Cas says, stretching and yawning, and wriggling distractedly in his seat.

Dean watches him move out of the corner of his eye and shifts a little himself. "So. I got you to myself for a couple hours before we pick Christopher up?"

"I thought you wanted to prepare food for this evening when Robert and Karen come over?" Cas says with a teasing smile as he turns towards him, though his hand is already out to stroke up Dean's thigh.

"All set. Just need to put it in to heat through about half hour before they get to us."

"Then, yes. I am all yours," Cas says, tracing his fingertips over Dean's fly before slotting his hand down between his thighs and squeezing.

Dean smiles, clears his throat, and wills the traffic to clear so they can get home a little faster.

* * *

"So did you hear about that blood bank thing? All that blood going missing?"

Dean almost breaks his neck to check over his shoulder that Christopher isn't listening to them, glaring at Robert as he passes him dishes to stack in the dishwasher. "Keep it down."

"Sorry," Robert whispers with wide, guilty eyes, checking over his shoulder himself.

"What blood thing?"

"With that theft from the mobile donation place up near that Walmart," Robert says, dropping his voice a little more.

Dean nods, thinking of the story he'd glanced over in the library but had forgotten about. "Yeah, I guess."

"It's the third one in as many weeks," Robert adds, passing Dean a dishcloth when he gestures for it.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah," Robert replies, nodding as Dean turns to look at him while he rinses a glass.

"Well. How much blood are we talking, here?" Dean asks, feeling uneasy, and then immediately telling himself he's overreacting. They might not live a hunting life now, but for some things, it's still instinctual to think in the ways he has done his entire life.

"Ten, maybe twenty pints."

"Each time?" Dean asks, spinning to face him, that hunting instinct kicking up a notch.

"I think so. Some people from work say it's some kinda cult some kids've got going on. At one of the high schools," Robert adds, leaning in and whispering in a conspiratorial tone that Dean tries not to laugh for, though is already feeling a little better for hearing what he has to say. If it's kids messing around then it's nothing pleasant, but at least he doesn't have to worry about anything supernatural as its cause. Not too much, anyway.

"Well. I'm sure the hospital, or police, or whoever deals with this kinda thing is handling with it," Dean says, moving around Robert to the pantry and grabbing the pie he made earlier this morning.

He pushes the thought of their conversation from his mind until Robert and Karen have gone home, Christopher is tucked up asleep in bed, and Cas is sprawled out on the couch beside him, moving only far enough to top up his glass of wine.

"You hear about that blood bank thing, Cas?" Dean says, snatching up the tablet that seems forever to be on their coffee table.

Cas shakes his head and nuzzles against his shoulder, handing Dean his glass. Dean scrolls through the news then types in a search, pulling up the article he'd read earlier in the library.

The thefts of this blood have taken place around the same time each week, and from the way it is being reported, the police think it's an opportunist thief that has grabbed an armful then run away before they could get caught. Though the amount of blood involved is setting off alarm bells for Dean, and he isn't sure what to make of it.

"What are you thinking?" Cas asks after reading the story himself.

"I guess... everything? Nothing?"

"Dean."

"Well," Dean says with a glance up at the ceiling and thinking of Christopher asleep above them. "Gotta be thinking about vamps."

"It could be nothing. It could be a _prank_ ," Cas adds, with obvious distaste for the word. "It could even be organ harvesting—"

"C'mon, Cas—"

"I suppose," Cas says, though there is a lot of reluctance in his voice, "it could also be vampires."

"Benny used to... he, uh... you know."

"I am sure he was, or _is_ not the only... vampire, that tries to live a better life than... those we are more accustomed to," Cas replies.

Dean thinks of Benny, the things they'd spoken about when in Purgatory, and the hopes Benny had for living that better life Cas is talking about. Regret seeps through him, wishing there had been a better story for Benny than the one he was given.

"No," Dean says, absently taking a sip of his wine, "I'm sure he wasn't. But even if that's what's happening here, it's... still a lot of blood to be taken every week. Ten to twenty pints?"

"Are you thinking that there is more than one vampire?" Cas asks, turning slightly towards him.

"I'm... I don't know what I'm thinking," Dean says, shrugging as he searches for another article. "Might not be anything, but... Robert said something about kids."

"Why would _kids_ need so many pints of blood?"

"I have... no idea," Dean replies, not finding anything else related to read.

"Perhaps a  _prank_ ," Cas says for a second time, his eyes twinkling with glee.

"Pretty sick prank if it is," Dean says with a grimace, and Cas leans in to kiss it from his face.

"Robert, perhaps, was given false information," Cas suggests, which is his tactful way of accusing him of being a gossip as he so often does.

"I don't... it might be nothing. Might be miscounting, Might be—"

"You want to investigate?" Cas asks, and from the tone of his voice, he doesn't approve of the idea at all.

"I... feel like maybe we should? If there even _is_ a thing happening here, I mean. But it's happened in broad daylight, so it can't really be a vampire, can it? Or maybe it is, and someone's feeding them. Or... maybe it's a witch—"

"Why," Cas says with an amused smile as he leans in, "is everything you are suspicious of related to a _witch_?"

"Not _everything_ —"

"But most things," Cas points out, smiling as he kisses him again. "At least, things like this."

There have been no _things like this_ for them for so long now, and Dean thinks maybe that is part of the problem. Perhaps he is over-cautious, his mind making connections when there are none to be made. Maybe even just the thought of any part of their old life interfering with their actual life puts him on edge more than he ever thought it would.

"Well. I don't care what it is—or isn't. I just... this is our _home_ , Cas. This is... I don't want it here, whatever it is."

"And are you going to jump to conclusions and assume that this is something... supernatural, when this is the exact kind of story that you and Sam would have waited at least a couple more weeks before even being concerned enough to investigate further?"

Dean shifts in discomfort for the tone in Cas' voice but can't argue with the point he's making. Though he doesn't really like it and distracts himself by taking a sip of his wine. "Make it sound like we didn't do enough."

"I did not say that," Cas says, laying down to rest his head in Dean's lap.

"Maybe not. But you implied—"

"I implied nothing," Cas says in reproach, angling up for another kiss. "I would just prefer that you wait at least another week before you go... charging into anything. And if you cannot wait, then... investigate—from here—before you do anything else. I will help you, if we are sure there is even anything to investigate."

Dean watches the wave of Cas' arm at what he assumes is the tablet, glances over the headline of the story again, and pushes the tablet back on the table, pushing the thoughts of the blood blank from his mind and instead choosing to focus on Cas.

* * *

"You heard anything about some... I don't know. Cult, at school, Josh?" Dean asks as Josh hands him a spanner, and Dean goes back to trying to work out whatever is happening with the Bilby's boiler.

"Cult?"

"Yeah. Like some... I don't know. You heard any rumors or anything?"

"Not really," Josh says, ducking and trying to watch what Dean is doing, when Dean isn't really sure himself.

"There's nothing... _weird_ happening around the place?" Dean asks, half-hearted as he tries to unscrew a difficult bolt from a panel and hoping this doesn't lead to a face full of whatever might be behind it.

"I don't... oh. That private school across... that real small one."

"That exclusive entry one where they won't even let people park outside?" Dean says as he looks up at Josh to check, glowering at the thought of the school in question, and being moved on from it one day when waiting for Cas.

"Yeah. We heard they had some kind of... I don't know. A bunch of their seniors came across to our campus and tried to steal some lab equipment."

"A private school trying to steal equipment from you guys? Don't they have money for that?"

"I don't know," Josh says, jolting back quickly as the cover of the boiler comes loose.

Dean splutters his way through a blast of dust, wiping his face and blinking to clear his eyes.

"You okay, Dean?"

"Yeah," Dean says, coughing and sitting up a little to get some air, thankfully accepting a soda Josh quickly grabs from the fridge after wiping his face on his shirt sleeve. "So. These kids."

"I don't know anything much," Josh says, shrugging. "Just that they were doing something stupid with some pranks."

"Pranks involving... blood?"

" _Blood_?" Josh asks, wide-eyed and grimacing. "No. Just... stupid stuff. Ew, that's gross."

Dean laughs, squinting at the boiler mechanism as he chides himself for having an overactive imagination, and tries to work out what's gone wrong. "How's your studying, Josh? You doing okay?"

"Good," Josh says with a determined nod, passing a screwdriver when Dean gestures for it. "We paid the deposit for college too. It's all official now."

Dean smiles, feeling just as proud of Josh today for getting into his college of choice in Champaign as he had been on the day Josh had arrived breathless at their house with his acceptance letter still in hand, waving it in excitement. "That's great, Josh."

"I'm... real glad we got Frohike," Josh adds, his face dropping a little. "I'm glad my dad's got... I'm glad he's not totally alone. That he won't be, when I'm there."

"Well, your dad won't be alone," Dean says, smiling as he tries to unscrew a smaller panel. "He's got all of us, and his other friends to keep him company when you're not around. And anyway, it's not like you're not gonna keep in contact. Come home with bags full of dirty laundry every chance you get. Right, Josh?"

"Right," Josh says in determined agreement, and Dean catches the way he nods to himself, also making himself a promise that he'll keep an eye on Simon when Josh is gone.

Dean thinks then of the car he's fixing up for Josh in secret in the Ferguson's garage, and how excited Simon had been about getting Josh his first car. Dean can already picture the proud, careful way Josh will turn it off the drive when he tests it for the first time, and can't wait to get it ready for him.

"Your dad couldn't be prouder, though. You know that right?" Dean says, pausing to look at Josh and waiting until he has his attention before going back to work. "I mean, sure, he's gonna miss you like hell. But he's... _so_ proud of you. We all are."

"Thanks," Josh replies, and Dean wonders if he'll ever stop blushing for receiving the slightest compliment.

"Anyway," Dean says, nodding towards the boiler, "good news. Mostly. I think."

"What is it?"

"Think it's just a blocked valve here, so I'll clean that out, and you'll be good to go for a while. And... maybe we could do with replacing a couple of parts, just to keep it working better."

"Are they... easy to get?"

"We'll figure it out," Dean says, sitting up and shaking his head, spluttering at the dust still stuck in his hair. "Though if your dad's talking about getting you new heating, it might even work out cheaper to replace the whole thing. I'll talk to your dad."

Josh nods back, handing Dean the cloth he waves his hand for, then stands to search for a pen and paper for him to make some notes.

* * *

It's been a busy week, and Dean's not had much space to think of much aside from his normal routine. But as he's picking up a few groceries so he can get dinner ready before heading out for some work then picking up Christopher from school, his eyes fall on the local gazette and bring him to a stop in the aisle.

On the front page is a picture of the blood bank that's had blood stolen from it the past three weeks. And from the looks of the headline he's now reading, that has now worked its way to a fourth. Dean pulls the newspaper from the rack and flicks it out, reading the story in full with his own blood running increasingly cold, then quickly pays for the few things he needed and makes his way back home.

The same story is repeated in every news article he pulls up on his tablet, leaving Dean increasingly frustrated that more security hasn't been put in place when this is clearly already a pattern. He prepares a marinade for the chicken they're having for dinner and pushes the pan into the fridge with a little too much force that leaves the door rattling, then tells himself to work off his nervous, foul mood.

Cas is working on a vegetable garden on the other side of town today, and what with planning and actual planting doesn't think he'll be home before eight. Dean scowls, wishing Cas was more local so he could drop by to see him knowing he would lift him out of this mood, and takes his frustration out on slicing potatoes up for thick wedges instead.

Since Christopher came into their lives they have avoided all there is to do with hunting, determined to give him the very best in life that they can. Dean had thought at one point that he would miss it, the constant fighting and varying schedule. But the idea of leaving the peace of the life he has now with Cas and Christopher fills him with a sense of loathing.

He'll help, if he has to, Dean tells himself, and if this really is a thing going on in his own neighborhood, then, well, of course he'll do everything it's possible to do to get this thing dealt with. But he has so much more to consider now, people that depend on him and he has to come home to. The thought of something going wrong, then going on the run to avoid being arrested, or getting injured in the name of hunting, and not being able to explain those injuries in a hospital, fills Dean with dread for what impact it would have on Christopher.

A text from Cas makes him smile a little easier, and once he's answered and cleared the message Dean spends a few seconds staring at his phone. His screen saver is a picture of the three of them, with Christopher wedged between them at a game of ice hockey a few months ago. Dean laughs to himself at the memory of Christopher happily cheering on both teams, not having any interest in which of them was winning.

Dean checks the time, makes himself a quick lunch that he eats in between getting everything ready that he can for dinner, then makes his way out, glad he's got a full afternoon where he can lose his thoughts in fixing car engines.

By the time Dean hears Cas' bike outside later that evening, he's both better from having a long few hours to occupy himself, and more determined to do something about this potential problem after reading up everything he can. Dean jumps up and moves through to the kitchen, plating up dinner for Cas and pushing it into the microwave, already putting cutlery and a beer on the table as Cas walks through the door.

"Hey," he calls out, smiling at Cas' tired wave for him as he kicks off his shoes, "how was it?"

"Exhausting," Cas says with a relieved sigh as he walks across then steps straight into his arms and drops his forehead on Dean's shoulder, wrapping him up in a tight hug. "But worthwhile."

"You hungry?" Dean asks as he pulls back and leans in for a kiss.

"Starving."

"Well," Dean says with another kiss and a nod towards the stairs, " _someone_ was adamant they were gonna stay awake till you got back."

"I'll say goodnight," Cas says with a smile, squeezing Dean's sides as he steps away, and Dean turns for a second to watch him tiredly climb the stairs before spinning on his heel as the microwave pings.

Dean thinks about holding off on telling Cas about what he's spent the evening looking at, even plans on leaving it until tomorrow when he sees him yawning as he makes his way back down. But Cas pulls Dean close and insists he sits with him as he eats, holding his hand against the table and complimenting his cooking in between every mouthful when he isn't asking about Dean's day. And the words he's been carefully rehearsing come tumbling out.

"I think... and I'm not sure. But this thing with the... with the blood bank," Dean says, wincing at Cas' food for the subject.

"Yes?" Cas asks, completely unaffected, even shoving in another mouthful showing how starving he really is.

"You didn't eat today?"

"Not since around twelve."

"Why?"

"No time," Cas says with a shrug, squeezing Dean's fingers asking him to let go, and taking a grateful glug of his beer.

"Cas," Dean says, trying not to sound exasperated, "we talked about this."

"I have absolutely nothing to do tomorrow," Cas says, smiling. "After we have taken Christopher to school, I have every intention of doing absolutely nothing at all."

"Well, good. I'll hold you to that," Dean adds, glad he's working from home tomorrow himself and will only have two cars to work on in his own space, so he can make sure Cas really does rest.

"So this... issue," Cas says after another few mouthfuls, "with the blood."

"Well," Dean says with a sigh, debating again how to word what he has to say. "A few years back, I might've said we had a case."

Cas raises an eyebrow but doesn't stop eating, and Dean takes it as his cue to keep talking.

"Four weeks, same time, same place, same amount of blood's been taken, more or less. No sign of force, no one suspicious hanging around. Nothing."

"You suspect someone working in the blood bank themselves?"

"It wouldn't make any sense for them to risk it this many weeks in a row. And like, why's there no security camera on this thing, huh? Why, if this thing happened more than two weeks in a row, didn't they just... I don't know, Cas. Get a security guard to stick around for a couple hours?"

"That is a good point."

"It is," Dean insists. "What're they doing to stop this? Nothing."

"We don't know for sure yet what it is that is happening," Cas points out as he pauses from eating to take another swig of his beer.

"No. I guess we don't. And there's like... no reports of these blood bags turning up empty anywhere, or... I don't know. There's nothing to say there have been any attacks or anything. I just... someone else has gotta want to know what's happening aside from me. Right, Cas?"

"I am sure other people are just as concerned."

"Then why aren't they _doing_ anything?" Dean demands, squeezing Cas' hand in apology when his voice raises.

"Perhaps they are, and they are just not talking about it," Cas suggests, though he's far more interested in his food.

"What, you think like a sting, or something? Trying to catch someone in the act?"

Cas shrugs in answer, and Dean has to admit the idea has crossed his mind as well.

"Well—"

"Dean," Cas says, reaching out and grabbing his hand again, swirling his thumb over the back of it. "I know that you want to protect people. And I know that, instinctively, you _need_ to help."

"Says the guy who takes two hours to come home by bus for all the people he stops to help on the way," Dean teases, raising up Cas' hand to kiss the back of.

"That was _once_ ," Cas says, trying to keep a straight face but smiling too hard.

"Yeah, yeah."

"My point is, that this is instinctual for you. To assume the worst in this scenario, and feel the need to fix it."

"You're telling me all this blood going missing every week for a month now isn't a big deal?" Dean asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I said no such thing. I only meant, that this is just... this is what you have been programmed to do. To... find ways to fix things even before you are sure they need fixing."

Dean could retort, and wants to, really badly, to say that Cas is also describing himself. But he just smiles and nods, wanting Cas' opinion on this before he does anything. "Okay. So you think we should just leave it?"

"I think... that this warrants further investigation," Cas says after hesitating. "I would prefer that we call someone who is actively hunting—"

"C'mon, Cas—"

"But know that you will not want to," Cas finishes for him with a knowing smile. "I also know that I would feel guilt for us not attempting to looking into this ourselves. But our lives are so different now."

Dean follows the tilt of Cas' head upstairs and thinks of Christopher, his stomach churning for the thought of anything happening to him. "I don't wanna—"

"If there is something here that will threaten our son in any way, I will be the first person out there to shield him from it, and stop him from coming to any harm."

On occasion, even though Dean knows it's not possible anymore, when Cas is adamant about something he has that _look_ about him from so many years ago, blue white blazing behind his eyes and power surging in his fingertips. That look that meant Dean was always a breath away from getting his neck snapped, or worse, for being so defiant, so insolent in the face of an angel. There is a ring on his finger and several years of love between them that means that isn't an issue anymore, but the look Cas has on his face now promises injury to anyone who would defy him, and Dean is reminded just how powerful Cas once was.

"Well. Of course—"

"We will investigate. And ask questions. Discreetly," Cas adds, raising an eyebrow that dares Dean to be anything but.

"Okay—"

"And we will wait, and be sure, and agree, before we do anything."

Dean has trouble snatching his eyes away from the determined look Cas is giving him, but nods in agreement. "I'm not saying we charge in all guns blazing—"

"Well, good," Cas says, scraping his plate clean. "Christopher needs us both. _I_ need you. Even the thought of you putting yourself in harm's way, is... it has been a while since I have had to bear it, Dean. It isn't something I want to go through again. I don't know if... I am not sure I _could_ go through it again."

That determination on his face is laced with Cas' love and concern for him, and though Cas has literally just finished eating, Dean pulls him up from his chair and wraps him up in a hug.

"You telling me not to do anything stupid, Cas?" he says, kissing the back of his head and smiling as Cas smoothes his hands down his back.

"Yes," Cas agrees with a harder kiss in return.

Dean wraps him up a little tighter and sighs out hard, nodding against his shoulder. "Okay, Cas."

* * *


	2. Crossword Clues and Cross Tempers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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"What's he doing?"

Dean comes to stand beside Cas and together they watch, as Christopher mutters instructions to a confused-looking Albus in the Ferguson's backyard. When he claps his hands together, Albus jumps up from where he's been sat patiently, then charges after Christopher across the grass as he makes noises Dean thinks is supposed to be the Impala.

"I have no idea," Cas replies, though his smile is still a proud one, belatedly noticing the tray in Dean's hands and moving to open the door on to the patio wider so he has room to step outside.

"Martin got it into his head to pretend he was a rocket launcher when he was about Christopher's age," Mr. Ferguson says as he comes out to join them, pulling out a chair for Mrs. Ferguson as she carries out a second tray. "Used to run around doing the exact same thing."

"Poor Sebastian," Mrs. Ferguson says with a fond smile as she starts slicing up the cake. Dean holds out the plates in turn for her to drop the cake on to.

"Was it Sebastian?" Mr. Ferguson asks.

"Oh, I think so."

"Are you sure it wasn't Felix?"

"No, no," Mrs. Ferguson smiles as Dean gestures to take over pouring their tea, "Felix was here later than that."

"Are you sure?" Mr. Ferguson asks as he sinks down into a chair, frowning and absently tapping at the table. "I could have sworn we had Felix first, and then Sebastian, and then—"

"No, no. It was the other way round. If you remember..."

Dean catches Cas' eye as the Fergusons reminisce and try to work out the order of their family pets, reaching out to discreetly squeeze his thigh beneath the table. It's a beautiful Sunday afternoon. Their house is clean, both Wings and Baby are sparkling, and Christopher's room looks like something out of a perfect home catalog currently, though that won't last long once he's been in it for more than five minutes. And they have nothing else they need to do today, since all of Christopher's homework is done.

Of course, homework for Christopher at the moment is full of fun stuff like drawing, and painting, and using his imagination. Dean hopes his enthusiasm for doing it continues as he gets older, fairly sure that Cas will have the best influence on him when it comes to studying.

"...it was almost enough to put me off my breakfast," Mrs. Ferguson says then, and Dean tunes back in, thoroughly lost in the conversation. Cas notices, and squeezes his hand over Dean's still against his thigh.

"What was?" Dean says, breaking off a piece of cake and watching Christopher rolling around on the grass next to Albus, who looks on, thoroughly bemused.

"The clues in my crossword this morning," Mrs. Ferguson sighs as she takes a sip of her tea. "It isn't even Halloween yet. Not anywhere near."

Dean smiles, and shakes his head. "What were the words?"

"Oh. _Decapitation_. And _exsanguination_ ," she says, pulling a face and waving as though she's brushing away those words.

"Perhaps it was deliberate," Mr. Ferguson says, lowering his voice in tease and nudging against her arm.

"Albert—"

"You know what folks are like," he says, laughing as he stands up, turning to wave for Christopher to come to the table. "Anything for a little entertainment."

Dean opens his mouth to speak, but then Mr. Ferguson is going back inside, and a breathless Christopher comes charging towards the table with Albus in tow. He thanks Mrs. Ferguson for the glass of lemonade she pours him, his eyes already on the cake.

"Chew it," Cas says, laughing as Christopher breaks off a huge chunk and shoves it in his mouth.

Christopher smiles around the cake like a chipmunk as he balances himself on Cas' thigh with one hand, and Albus sits by his side wagging his tail, patiently waiting for crumbs.

"Is Albus on a diet today?" Christopher asks Mrs. Ferguson.

The vet has been insistent that Albus doesn't have quite as many treats as they all keep giving him, arguing that the number of walks he goes on doesn't quite compensate enough.

"No," Mrs. Ferguson says, shaking her head with a smile, "no diets on Sundays. For any of us."

Dean opens his mouth to protest as she leans across the table to add a second slice of cake to Christopher's plate, but then she is doing the same to both his and Cas' as well, so doesn't complain.

"Here. Take this end for Albus," Mrs. Ferguson says, gesturing to the end of the cake that is a little thicker and uneven.

Christopher finishes his first slice then charges around the table, pressing into her side in thanks and taking the cake with him. He turns back from heading over to the grass again for his second slice, and Dean, Cas, and Mrs. Ferguson laugh as Albus sits at his heel, taking delicate bites of the offered slice of cake as Christopher eats his own.

"Maybe our crossword writer today has been following this business with the blood."

Dean looks up as Mr. Ferguson returns with a folded up newspaper that he waves, and as he sits Dean can make out the crossword grid filled with Mrs. Ferguson's familiar handwriting.

"Blood?" Cas asks, pausing from taking another bite of his cake.

"You know. With all that blood that keeps going missing from those blood donation places."

Dean swallows hard, angry at himself both that he's not found out more about it, and that the research he _has_ done has turned up nothing at all. They have just passed a fifth week of it, though the person responsible has changed location and is now stealing from a donation center across town. And if this pattern continues, then the coming Tuesday will make it six. "I—"

"And of course," Mr. Ferguson adds as he quickly turns the pages, before tapping on one and nodding then turning the newspaper for Dean to see, " _this_ happened last night."

Dean quickly scans the grainy image, his stomach knotting for the headline reading _Nurse attacked_ , then reads the article with increasing alarm. "This happened last night?"

"It did," Mr. Ferguson confirms, and Cas leans in to read the story with Dean.

_"A nurse finishing her shift last night was attacked just outside the ambulance bay of Stormont Vail Hospital. The assailant overpowered Miss Turner, with police believing that they were scared off by an approaching ambulance with an emergency patient inside. When she was found by one of the paramedics who was returning to their vehicle, Miss Turner was unconscious, with what appeared to be two deep puncture wounds in her neck. Miss Turner is currently receiving treatment as she was found to be severely anemic at the scene."_

"Is she doing okay?" Dean asks, itching to check his phone, to investigate, to do _something_ to stop what he's now convinced is happening.

"She's tired. Sore. Hooked up to a blood transfusion thing," Mr. Ferguson says, absently eating his cake as though they are speaking about more pleasant things. "Police are saying it was some wild animal attack. There's not been reports of anything like that around here for years."

"But she will be okay," Cas says, in that tone of his that is halfway between statement and question.

"They think so."

"Have they... did anyone see this wild animal?" Dean asks, knowing very little about the layout of the hospital and half-wanting to go to scope it out now.

Stormont Vail is right around the corner from Cas' library, and the thought of anything coming anywhere near Cas or Christopher puts fury in Dean's gut. Though the idea of dressing up as a Fed to try to speak to this nurse leaves bile rising in his throat, and he takes a gulp of his tea to try to wash it away.

"Not that I've read about, no," Mr. Ferguson replies. "But then, the security cameras there don't exactly work well."

"Remember when that poor little girl was left in that tatty old carrycot in that freezing winter a few years back?" Mrs. Ferguson adds with a disapproving frown. "No one found her for hours. Poor little thing was almost blue when they took her inside. Cameras were out then; looks like they haven't been fixed since."

"That's... how much damn money does it cost to maintain a few cameras?" Dean barks out, receiving a pinch to his thigh from Cas and a surprised, reproachful look from Mrs. Ferguson. "Sorry."

Mr. Ferguson turns his head away and is obviously trying not to smile. Mrs. Ferguson catches him doing it and clears her throat, until he looks back in contrition then makes himself busy eating cake.

"Anyway," she says, still glaring a little at her husband, "I am sure the authorities will be looking into it carefully. Or that there will be extra security now because of _this_ horrible thing."

Dean bites his tongue holding back a comment about a lack of security for these blood thefts at the mobile donation unit, instead following Mr. Ferguson's example by shoving a piece of cake in his mouth so he can't talk.

"Well. It might not be a wild animal," Mr. Ferguson says, the words coming out thick for his cake, and Dean catches the glint in his eye as he half-looks at Mrs. Ferguson.

"Well, it's either that or some... rabid human," Mrs. Ferguson retorts.

"Or. You know what I'm thinking, Rosemary."

"I do," she says, the corners of her mouth turning up in a smile. "And I'm choosing to ignore you."

"It was late at night. Already dark."

"Albert—"

"Nosferatu. Vampyre. _Dracula_ ," he adds with increasingly ominous volume and a terrible accent as he leans into her side, showing his teeth and pretending to have fangs.

Mrs. Ferguson observes him coolly for all of three seconds then is giggling at him, and chiding herself for encouraging him. Dean tries to smile back, normally loving watching them being playful together. But the news story in front of him, and the tension he can feel in Cas beside him, together with the thoughts churning in his mind of what might be happening here mean his smile doesn't really make it much past a grimace.

"I'm sure they'll figure it out," Mr. Ferguson adds as he tops up all of their tea and moves on to another subject.

Dean laces his fingers through Cas' and watches Christopher as he and Albus play on the grass.

* * *

"Christopher. What did we say about losing our tempers when—"

"I don't care. I don't. Everything's _stupid_."

Dean flinches as Christopher's dinosaur plushie goes flying through the air and almost knocks a cup flying from the coffee table, watching as he turns and charges up the stairs.

"Christopher," Cas calls after him, still trying to get his attention.

"It's stupid. You're all stupid," Christopher says, his voice thick with tears.

A few seconds later they hear Christopher's bedroom door slamming closed, and Dean is convinced he can hear him crying even from down here. Which is impossible, almost, for all the insulation he personally put into the place. It makes him feel no less guilty that Christopher is so upset, of course.

Cas groans, sinks down on the couch beside him, and drops his forehead into Dean's neck. "He's been like this for three days now."

"I know, Cas," Dean says, shifting just enough to get his arm around Cas and kiss the top of his head as he snuggles closer. "I know."

"If he would just talk—"

"We just have to figure out a way to help him talk about it; whatever it is," Dean says, tugging Cas closer, wishing he felt more confident about how easy he's making it sound than he does.

They picked Christopher up from school three days ago, expecting their usually bright and happy son, and instead receiving a sullen, monosyllabic child. He's barely eaten, and found joy in absolutely nothing. Everything they say starts an argument, and every suggestion is a _stupid_ one.

They have been so fortunate with Christopher, still able to count the number of tantrums he's had up until this one on one hand. Dean's worried; are he and Cas working too much? Not giving him enough time? Have they done something to make him unhappy? Is this _case_ he's looking into with the blood bank and the hospital taking too much out of him, and making him an earlier, snappier version of himself without him even realizing?

"Stop blaming yourself," Cas chides, turning enough to press a hard kiss into his neck before sitting up and staring at him. "I can feel you doing it."

"I—"

"This is nothing either of us has done," Cas insists, taking his hand. "He was fine when he went to school on Monday. He was his normal self. And he left school in that... _mood_. Something happened there. I _know_ it did."

Cas, were he to join the PTA, would be an utter nightmare, Dean is convinced of it. Christopher's school is great, with excellent results and small class sizes, a dedicated group of teachers and support staff, as well as decent facilities that are well maintained. They were really lucky to get him a place there, asking for Christopher to join at just the right time.

But Cas demands the highest of quality in everything, and does not take kindly to playground gossip or parents that form cliques that seem to exclude other parents and their kids in turn. Mark, the father of the boy who kept telling Christopher ghost stories, always makes a wide berth every time he sees them since that conversation they had a few weeks back. Dean is about ten percent embarrassed for it, and ninety percent proud.

"Alright. So lets you and me give him maybe... ten minutes or something to calm down. Then we'll go up there and try talking to him again. Okay, Cas?"

"Perhaps we should contact the school," Cas grumbles, burrowing ever closer.

"And say what? Our kid's in a foul mood and we think it's your fault?" Dean laughs as he leans down to pick up the dinosaur plushie and sits it on his lap.

"It would be true."

"Well, yeah," Dean agrees, hiding his smile for Cas' petulant tone, "doesn't mean we're gonna say it."

"I suppose," Cas replies with a heavy sigh, and Dean holds on to him in silence until Cas sits up with a rueful smile.

They count ten minutes out, both of them repeatedly checking their phones for the time dragging and avoiding eye contact as they do it, then stand in silence, and making their way upstairs. Dean knocks on the door and waits until he hears a grumble from the other side that he thinks meant _come in_ , and the two of them push the door open to find Christopher curled up on a beanbag in the furthest corner of the room.

"Hey, buddy," Dean says as they walk across the room, and he carefully tucks the plushie into bed.

Cas follows him, though takes his time to open the windows to let some air in on the way, which had been one of the things that had set off Christopher's tantrum. Christopher watches him do it and lets out a heavy sigh, curling up further into himself.

"So," Dean says as he drops to the floor and sits cross-legged, joined by Cas seconds later, "you... your dad and I—"

"I'm sorry I yelled at you both," Christopher says, looking at them teary-eyed, and it's too much. Dean leans forward and scoops him up in his arms, dragging Christopher over into his lap.

Christopher erupts into tears, and Dean holds him tighter, looking up at Cas in alarm as he crowds closer and cradles the back of his head. Between them, they rock Christopher until those tears fade away into hiccups, and then Cas is leaning forward to kiss his head before standing, returning with a box of tissues covered in a dinosaur print.

Christopher takes the offered tissue and wipes his face, scrunching it up into a tight ball in his fist before dropping it to the carpet. He stays on Dean's lap, one arm tight around him as he reaches out and pinches Cas' sleeve to tug him closer as well.

"Can you tell us what it is that upset you?" Cas asks softly, thumbing away a tear from his cheek.

Christopher shakes his head and burrows deeper into Dean's neck, holding on to Cas' arm even tighter.

"Did _we_ do something to upset you?" Dean asks, unable to stop himself checking for a temperature, or signs of injury, or anything at all to explain his strange behavior.

Christopher shakes his head again, and they hear a muffled, _no_.

"Why were you angry that I tried to open the window?" Cas asks, and Christopher curls up tighter still in Dean's lap.

"It's not safe."

"What isn't safe?"

"Keeping the windows open."

"Well," Cas covering Christopher's hand with his own, "it was only for a little while. I was going to close them again."

"Why isn't it safe?" Dean asks, his heart pounding in fear for whatever it is that Christopher is imagining.

" _Luke_ said. That's how they get in," Christopher says, still with the occasional forlorn hiccup.

"How who get in?" Dean asks, and he can already see Cas planning a further conversation with Luke's father Mark.

" _Them_ ," Christopher insists, going to wipe his nose on the back of his sleeve until Cas grabs another tissue and hands it to him.

"Who's _them_?"

"Everyone at school's talking about it," Christopher says, moving a little to adjust in Dean's lap.

"Talking about what?"

"The... the _vampires_ ," Christopher says, choking the word out before he's curling up tighter and starting to cry once again.

Dean looks at Cas in alarm again, stuck for how to respond. They have talked so many times about what to do if Christopher ever mentions vampires, sure that they'll find an easy way to convince him the stories aren't true. But holding their frightened little boy in his arms Dean now doesn't know what he's supposed to say. He looks to Cas for guidance even though he knows he doesn't have any answers either.

"What vampires?" Cas says anyway, leaning in to thumb away yet more tears.

"The ones who keep drinking all that blood. The one who attacked that lady at the hospital. Luke says they'll be coming to our houses next, and they'll... they get in through the windows."

At least Christopher's anger from earlier now makes sense, but Dean needs to get to the root of it.

"So. You said everyone's talking about this?"

Christopher nods against him before looking up.

"And... what are they saying?"

"That... the vampires are coming to get us."

"Get who?"

"All of us."

"Christopher—"

"I don't want them to get _you_ ," Christopher says, bursting into tears yet again, and this time he really does seem inconsolable, rocking back and forth in Dean's lap and shaking his head every time they try to speak to him.

The hunting world, and all the supernatural things in it, Dean is adamant are never going to be something Christopher experiences. He's made himself this promise every single day since they decided to adopt Christopher, and it isn't a promise he intends to break now. Dean stares at Cas, and Cas nods back in resignation that says he knows what Dean is thinking. That they have to investigate this properly instead of in the half-hearted way they have until now, and solve it quickly, and get their lives back to normal.

"How about this," Dean says, kissing the top of Christopher's head. "How about we promise to be extra careful, and we check the windows and doors more carefully every night before we go to sleep. You can check them with us, if you want."

"But what about when Dad goes to check the animals in the shed before he goes to sleep?" Christopher asks, and without even seeing it himself Dean knows he's staring hard at Cas.

"I promise to be careful—"

"It isn't enough," Christopher says, on the verge of tears again.

"Then. What do you think would be better?" Cas asks calmly as he takes his hand.

"We never leave the house again," Christopher declares, and slumps hard enough against Dean for him to almost topple backward.

"Okay. Well, we can't really do that," Dean says, smiling. "So, what's the next best thing?"

"Garlic. Lots of garlic."

"We... do have lots of garlic," Cas agrees, and is fighting to hold in a smile.

"You need to eat it when you go outside so they can't get you."

"Okay—"

"And then you need to brush your teeth real good so Dad can kiss you goodnight," Christopher adds, and now it's Dean looking up at the ceiling as he hides his own smile.

"Sounds good, Christopher," he says, trying to keep his voice level.

"But you have to be careful. You have to close the door and the windows and everything when you get back inside."

"Okay—"

"And you can't stay out too long," Christopher adds, and he's squeezing Cas' hand so tight it's going white in places.

"I promise," Cas tells him, gently moving his fingers enough to swirl his thumb over Christopher's hand and release his grip a little.

"Well—"

"And we have to tell everybody to be careful," Christopher adds, looking between the two of them intently.

"Okay—"

"Well," Cas says, with a quick apologetic look for Dean as he interrupts him, "of course we will. But do you remember where we are going on Saturday?"

"Nana's," Christopher says with a hint of a smile.

"That's right," Dean says, smiling himself. "And why are we going to Nana's?"

"Because next week is our _anniversary_ ," Christopher says proudly, sitting up a little better, and Dean is hiding a smile all over again.

"That's... well, yeah, that's right, Christopher."

"We've been a paper family for a year on Tuesday," Christopher adds, meaning the day they officially got his adoption papers. "And a real one for..."

"Almost two years," Cas finishes for him, and Dean smiles for the thought of how quickly that time has passed.

Christopher marks them as being a real family as the day he first arrived with them, and Dean and Cas would never disagree. They have a busy few weeks ahead, with the anniversary of Christopher's adoption next week that they're celebrating at the weekend, his seventh birthday a couple of weeks later, and the date of them becoming that _real family_ a couple of days after that.

In the frantic few weeks it had been when Christopher had first come to them, they hadn't realized just how close it was to his birthday that Christopher had lost his parents in that vampire attack. Dean remembers looking at the birth certificate Sam and Eileen had picked up along with all Christopher's other documents that they could get from the house, and the look that had passed between them when Sam had gone white, talking about the birthday cards still up on display.

The thought of all Christopher has lost and the timing of it makes Dean hug him a little tighter, and Christopher leans into it, sighing into his neck.

"So. When we go to Nana's," Cas says, reaching out to brush hair away from Christopher's forehead, "then, we should tell them to be careful, too. Perhaps you can teach them how to do it."

"Yes," Christopher agrees as he nods hard, "especially because of baby Maura."

"Yes," Cas agrees, and Dean's mind is filled with images of his barely five-week-old niece. And the constant look of surprised awe on Sam's face whenever they Skype.

Christopher is already fiercely protective of Maura, and Dean couldn't be prouder of him for it, catching a glimpse of the photo frame Christopher insisted on having in his bedroom that displays a picture of him carefully cradling Maura in his arms.

"They like to eat _babies_ better than anything," Christopher adds in a conspiratorial whisper, and Dean's lost for a second, then remembers the vampire discussion, and wants to groan for the overactive imagination of Christopher and his school friends.

"Well. We can't have that," he says, catching Cas' eye, and knowing from the look on his face he is quietly seething.

Christopher hugs Dean tight, and then moves to do the same with Cas. His mood lifts instantly, and they spend a couple of hours before bedtime checking his homework and watching this cartoon that Dean doesn't want to remember the name of yet can't help be riveted by.

Christopher insists on checking the doors and windows with them in every room before he goes to bed, and then insists on really long hugs before he'll let either of them go. Dean turns off his light, and uses the bathroom before heading downstairs, frowning a little when he hears Cas talking.

Cas is on the phone, and the tone of his voice is ice cold, with Dean wincing for the words he's using and imagining Mark flinching for them at the other end.

"Your son has convinced our son that there are vampires feeding on babies in our town," Cas says, and it's the quiet kind of fury in his voice that leaves Dean smirking, almost feeling sorry for Mark.

He leaves Cas to it, uncapping them both a bottle of beer and sinking down on the couch, grabbing the laptop and beginning more research into these apparent vampires, more determined than ever to get to the bottom of what is going on. He half-listens to Cas' poorly-disguised threats, and imagines it'll be Mark's wife that picks Luke up from school for a few days.

"You will deal with this. Immediately," Cas finishes with, ending the call abruptly as he slumps down beside him.

"You okay there, Cas?" Dean says, reaching out to pass him his beer.

"Furious."

"Well. I get that—"

"How can he be so irresponsible as to let a child discuss such things in such... grim detail?" Cas demands as he wriggles to get comfortable beside him, absently clinking their bottles together.

"Well. Maybe he doesn't think it's that big a deal—"

"Dean. Christopher has more reason than most children in that school to be fearful of vampires," he says in a loud, angry whisper as he turns to look at him. "But that doesn't mean Luke's stories aren't upsetting the other children as well."

"Well—"

"There has to be a reason why Luke is continually wanting to tell the other children scary stories," Cas adds, grumbling it into Dean's shoulder. "His parents should be ashamed of themselves."

Dean agrees, but can tell by the look on Cas' face that if he answers, Cas will turn himself in circles getting increasingly incensed.

"We'll deal with it," Dean says instead, leaning in to kiss him, then nodding towards the laptop screen. "We'll deal with all of it."

"We will. Quickly," Cas adds, reaching out to tap in some words to search with, and thinking out loud about what they should do next.

* * *

"So, when are the Ferguson's families getting here?" Mary asks as she holds out a bag for Maura's diaper when Sam's finished changing it.

"Just over six weeks," Dean replies, already going over the list of things he wants to get ready in his head just for the reminder.

Cas has perfected the Ferguson's back and front yards meaning they will only need a little maintenance between then and now. They have ample bedding for the two spare rooms that Martin and his family will be staying in, and Dean has fixed a leak in the main bathroom so they can use it just between them. Christopher seems strangely excited by the idea of sharing his and Cas' adjoining bathroom for the duration of their stay, and every few days there are questions about who is coming, what they'll be doing, and if he'll be allowed to stay up later than his usual eight o'clock.

Dean has an entire separate list for food he plans on preparing so Mr. and Mrs. Ferguson don't run themselves ragged. And he's dealt with a couple of repairs in their house as well as painted one of their spare rooms, so everything is almost as ready as it can be, several weeks in advance.

"We'll come up a couple times if we can," Sam says as he lifts Maura up and kisses her cheek, laughing as she wriggles in his grip.

"They'll love that," Dean says, smiling as Eileen holds her hands out for Maura and cradles her in her arms, dancing a little before she sits down beside Sam.

Cas reaches out to tickle Maura's foot and earns himself a kick against his palm. "We promised Mr. and Mrs. Ferguson that we would take new pictures."

Sam and Eileen lean into one another with Maura wedged between them, happily posing for some pictures that Dean takes on his phone. There are already a ton of photos in frames of the three of them around Mom's house, proudly displayed alongside others with him, Cas, and Christopher.

The bunker hasn't been lived in for almost eight months now, and Dean is in no hurry to see what it looks like. Though he imagines all those floors and surfaces are lined with dust, and that echoes of his and Sam's existence there are still in every room. Sam and Eileen moved in here with Mary not long after they found out Eileen was pregnant, taking advantage of Mary's house on a back road just on the edge of Burr Oak. The house was too big for her on her own anyway, but they'd got it for a real bargain. It's perfect, really, with enough room for Sam and Eileen to live comfortably in private, and for Mary to have her own space as well.

Dean is struck then by the reminder that the next generation of Winchesters is getting the stable, loving home life he and Sam never had the chance to. He's fiercely proud of it, and glancing around the room seeing their family so content and at ease in their lives gives Dean a sense of satisfaction that he never intends to take for granted.

"Is it seriously only a year since Christopher's adoption?" Sam asks, turning his head as Christopher charges back into the room from the yard, excitedly chattering at Mary about a car that's pulled up outside that he thinks is Jody's.

"It is."

"I can't believe it's gone that quick," Sam says with a shake of his head, then repeats what he has just said for Eileen.

"It's gone so fast," Eileen adds as she reaches out to straighten up Maura's dress.

"It has," Dean agrees with the ASL he's got better at with Cas' instruction, since he and Cas have been talking about it constantly the past few nights, reminiscing about Christopher coming into their lives.

Dean looks around at his family again, and can hear Christopher still excitedly chattering through the window. He tries to make out the voices of whoever is trying to answer Christopher first, but can't. But then there is a burst of sound as Jody, Alex, and Donna come crashing through the doorway at the same time.

Claire and Christopher follow, and as always, Christopher is watching Claire's every move, enamored by her since their very first meeting that seems so long ago now. Claire catches Dean's eye and smiles, stepping into Cas' hug first as he jumps up to greet her, immediately making him blush by pulling at his shirt and telling him he looks good. Dean stands to accept his own hug, receiving his own appraising, _not bad_ , before Mary is announcing drinks for everyone.

"Family life suits you," Jody tells Dean as she hugs him, repeating the same phrase she's been saying to him on and off for almost two years now.

"Yeah, well, seemed to work out for you," he replies, and she nods as she steps back with a proud smile for Claire and Alex.

"Got my girls. Got you guys," she says as she accepts Cas' hug, and the three of them turn in the direction of Donna singing and cooing over Maura, laughing as Sam's hands follow, ever protective as Donna spins her in the air.

It's busy, and loud, and happy, and hell knows Dean never thought he'd get to have any of this. Every now and then he forgets that this is his life now, and it's enough to silence him, keep him standing here quietly observing all this love and affection in the room.

Cas slots his hand through Dean's and squeezes, and gives him a look that says he knows what he's thinking, before he's nudging against his side and letting go, offering to help Mary with those drinks.

"Look what Claire got me," Christopher yells as he runs towards Dean with his arm full of more art equipment than he thinks they have room for, but will no doubt wedge in somewhere until they do.

Christopher is so excited to see everyone, that he presses the paints, pencils, and crayons into Dean's waiting-hands then charges around behind the couch and hugs Alex next. He'll calm in a few minutes, Dean knows that, though doesn't blame Sam for the way he discreetly shields Maura from Christopher's path as he steps back to tear off the paper covering his next gift.

This party for him today is part celebration for his adoption anniversary, and partly an early birthday. For his actual birthday it will be just the three of them going to a theme park Christopher has been talking nonstop about since Jason went there a few weeks back.

"Dad, _look_ ," Christopher calls out again, brandishing a new backpack that's come at the best time since he just broke his last one at school.

"Awesome," Dean calls back, quietly mouthing a _thank you_ at Alex for the Tardis-shaped bag that will be Christopher's favorite new thing for weeks. It will go great with the other Doctor Who paraphernalia that's waiting at home in a parcel from Charlie that she apologized for not having time to gift wrap, though sent sheets of wrap covered in Daleks with for Dean to wrap them himself.

Sam catches his eye the second Christopher starts warning Donna about vampires. They've already spoken about it a few times and everyone has agreed not to do anything but listen. Dean is adamant about not wanting to lie to Christopher about anything, yet is torn, because this side of their lives is something he doesn't want him to have to know about. _Former_ life, he adds to himself in determination, smiling as Cas hands him a glass.

"How about a toast to Christopher?" Mary says as she hands Christopher his own special glass that is a color-changing one revealing a dinosaur when it's at room temperature.

Christopher's excitement drops for a second to be replaced with shyness, and he shuffles back around the back of the couch to press into the gap between Cas and Dean, tucking into Dean's side.

"To Christopher," Sam says first, raising his glass and winking at Christopher. "Best nephew ever. Proud to be your uncle, Christopher. So glad you chose us, _all_ of us, to be your family."

Dean wants to glare at Sam for making him tear up unnecessarily, but Cas' hand is already resting on his lower back to soothe him for it. Christopher tucks a little tighter into Dean's side meaning Cas can move a little closer himself.

" _To Christopher_ ," everyone echoes before raising their glasses. Christopher is immediately guzzling his juice down and impatiently staring at the glass to change color, then is pushing it into Cas' hand and calling for Claire to play.

Claire shoots Cas and Dean a look that is supposed to be one of exasperation, but there is a gleeful smile on her face that they catch before she can turn away.

"Well. Everything's set up. You might as well all... dig in," Mary announces, waving towards the heaving table covered with a mixture of home-cooked and shop-bought food from them all.

Claire ducks back in immediately with Christopher in tow, and they fill their plates before disappearing into the yard again. Dean nods towards the table for Cas to follow him, intent on grabbing some of the quiche Donna's made before it all goes, knowing how good it is.

"So," Jody says with a quick glance towards the open door making sure Christopher is out of earshot. "I checked. Turns out three other blood donation places near you have reported similar things happening to them before this. Norton, Randolph, and Tennessee Town."

"Seriously?" Sam says, filling up a plate for Eileen so she doesn't have to put Maura down.

"Yep. Went on for a few weeks at a time then stopped when people finally started paying attention. Same thing that's happening at your place," Jody adds as she nods at Dean.

"Anyone got... _bit_ , like that nurse?" Dean asks, dropping his voice a little in case Christopher runs back in.

"Nope. First one of those I could find anything about," Jody replies, though it's muffled for the mouth of sandwich she's just taken.

"So this has been going on for... how long?"

"I'd say three months?"

"And no one's done anything about any of this?" Dean demands, ignoring Jody's disapproving look at him and shoving more quiche in his mouth.

"Maybe no one connected the dots yet," Donna suggests, handing Dean a napkin and nodding towards his face. He wipes his mouth and growls a little under his breath.

"The point is. We know about it now," Jody says, eyeing Dean over the top of her glass. "I've already passed on details to your local office."

"If it's... vampires," Cas says, also glancing towards the door for Christopher, "then the police are not—"

"We'll look into it," Sam says, and Dean takes a deliberately long look at Eileen and Maura before looking back at him, knowing Sam won't want to get too involved either.

"Already got a friend at the Shawnee County Sheriff's Office looking into it," Jody replies with a wave of her hand.

"But—"

"He's a friend of Loren's," Jody adds, and Dean immediately thinks of Christopher's therapist. Former therapist, really.

"He, uh... they know about... you know. All this stuff?"

"Dean," Jody says with an exasperated burst of laughter, "don't _worry_."

"I _gotta_ worry. It's our home we're talking about here."

"Well. I—"

"I think both Dean and I will feel better if we are in contact with this person," Cas says with a discreet look for Dean. "We have already discussed this at length, and though we are both reluctant to become involved ourselves, if our... experience will assist in this issue, then we have a responsibility to help."

"Especially if it's happening on our own doorstep," Dean adds with a thankful look for Cas that he receives a small smile for.

"We'll figure this out. Not like between all of us we can't," Jody says, with her own pointed look towards Maura, and then Christopher as he comes back in.

"Are you talking about the vampires?" he says as he comes to tuck into Dean's side again, wide eyes looking around all the adults in the room.

"We're just... sharing ideas to keep everybody safe," Dean tells him, pleased that at least that isn't a lie.

"Yeah," Sam agrees, coming to stand beside him and resting a hand on Christopher's shoulder.

"Did you tell them about my idea with the garlic?" he whispers loudly up at Sam.

Dean watches Sam's face ripple in an effort to stop laughing, schooling it in to nod earnestly enough to placate Christopher.

"Yeah. I did. It's a great idea, Christopher."

Christopher beams up at him, starts humming to himself as he piles up his plate for a second time, waving a cake at Claire as she pops her head through the door.

"Sure," she calls out. "Some of those chips too."

Christopher nods, shoves his plate into Sam's hand as he reaches for another and loads it up with chips and cake for Claire, before taking it back again and heading outside.

"He's _fine_ ," Mary says as she catches Dean looking after him worriedly.

"What thing with the garlic?" Dean asks Sam when he's nodded back at Mary and told himself not to be so concerned.

Sam splutters with laughter and shakes his hand. "Trust me. I don't think you wanna know."

* * *


	3. The Ticking Of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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Mary's reminder that Martin and Rebecca, the Ferguson's son and daughter and their respective families, are arriving in around six weeks sits with Dean on the drive home from Christopher's adoption party. He is trying and failing to work out how they are going to fit in this _case_ better when they have so much going on. Both he and Cas are fairly busy with the various yards and cars they're working on, and with all the other, regular stuff happening, he's already thinking there might be some really long days ahead.

Once they're home and Cas has carried an already-asleep Christopher up to bed, Dean grabs a pad of paper and tries to plan things out. He adds all he can from memory to a crudely-drawn schedule, and is just pulling his phone from his pocket to check for what he's missed when Cas comes back down.

"What are you doing?" Cas asks as he passes him with an armful of laundry, then making his way back to the fridge.

"Just... planning things out."

"I see," Cas says, sliding Dean a beer across the kitchen counter and leaning on it, trying to read the paper upside down.

"You can help me, if you want," Dean adds, lifting his head with a smile and patting the stool beside him. Cas holds up a hand asking him to wait, and Dean's aware of him walking over to their couch off to his side, then is smiling at the kiss to the back of his head before Cas sits down and slides the tablet across to him.

"This would be easier," he says, already opening up his own color-coordinated schedule, that sends notifications pinging constantly to his phone for all the things he needs to know.

"Where's the guy who used to tell me he didn't trust computers, huh, Cas? I kinda miss him," Dean teases, turning his head to watch Cas as he gives him a reproachful look.

"Dean. Change is a good thing. Change for the _sake_ of change is pointless. _This_ is a change for good."

Dean takes that to mean Cas' obsession with everything he can possibly do on his tablet or phone but doesn't say a thing, just leans in to kiss him and allows his forehead to rest on Cas' shoulder for a second before sitting back up.

"Thanks for today, Cas."

"For what?" Cas asks, looking confused.

"Just... backing me up with the whole... you know. When we talked about the... vampire thing."

"Of course," Cas replies. "I may not like the idea of either of us being involved in this. And I may still want us to have as little to do with this as is possible. But that doesn't mean either of us will... forgive ourselves if we don't get involved."

"Exactly."

"And, as you said. This is our home. Our family. Our friends. Who would we be, if we didn't protect what is important to us?"

Dean smiles, turning a little so he can drape his arm around Cas' back and tug him closer. "True."

"Also. You are my husband," Cas says as he leans into him with a soft smile. "Even if I disagree with you, you always have my unwavering support. I hope you know that."

"I do, Cas," Dean tells him as he cups his face, "I do."

Cas leans in for his kiss, turning in his seat a little and wrapping his hands around Dean's sides. He chases Dean's mouth when he goes to move away again, deepening their kiss and keeping it going far longer than Dean intended. When he pulls back they are both a little breathless and grinning at each other.

"So," Cas says, clearing his throat and turning back, nodding to Dean's pad of paper. "What are we planning?"

"Honestly? How we're gonna fit everything in. We've... the next few weeks are gonna be pretty full on."

"We are no more busy than usual," Cas says, opening his schedule again to check over.

"Yeah. But if we're... if we need some time to look into this... this _thing_ here. And you and me have got a lot of work this week. We need to pick up Christopher's birthday present next weekend when he's with the Fergusons. We've got that dinner with Robert and Karen on Friday."

"I need to make some time early next week to check over the community garden," Cas adds, thumbing through his schedule and making himself a quick note.

"Plus we got... all this food to prepare for when Martin and Rebecca arrive."

"Dean," Cas says with an affectionate smile, "unless you are planning on cooking everything in advance for everyone—"

"I just wanna get a few things I can shove in the freezer and just... take out when we're ready. Save us some time. When they're here, Cas, we've got... two full weeks of stuff going on."

"You know, Dean. Christopher doesn't go back to school until around the second week of August," Cas says, and Dean knows from the tone in his voice he's leading to something.

"That's right. That's _right_ ," he says, his stomach dropping, and quickly checking his scribbled schedule again. "Cas. He finishes school in... not next Wednesday, the Wednesday after."

"Yes."

"Cas," Dean says, closing his eyes and leaning into him, "how're we gonna... we're not dragging him into any of _this_."

The thought of Christopher in the back of the Impala as he and Cas look for vampires makes Dean want to punch something. He grips the edge of the counter until the feeling of helplessness passes, then slumps a little more in his seat.

"There will be no need to," Cas replies, running a soothing hand over his back which Dean leans into, telling himself not to panic.

"But—"

"We _won't_. Both Josh and Tessa will help us with Christopher when they have time to. And Mr. and Mrs. Ferguson have already claimed our son on several days," Cas adds with a soft laugh, before reaching out to grab Dean's pen and adding the specific dates for that from his own schedule.

"Okay—"

"And there is no reason for us to be dealing with this... _case_ , entirely on our own. We won't," he says, with a determined look for Dean in case he's thinking of arguing.

"No. I guess not."

"We will deal with this. One day at a time, if we need to," Cas tells him, nuzzling against his shoulder.

"Yeah, Cas," Dean agrees with a smile for him as he peers over his shoulder. "Yeah, we will."

Cas smiles and stares back at him for a moment, then takes a glug of his beer. "As I was saying."

"You were saying something?"

"I was. Until you started _panicking_ ," Cas says, smiling as Dean tries to protest.

"Well. What?" Dean says, squeezing Cas' thigh.

"Since Christopher has no need to return to school until mid-August, and we should probably dedicate at least one, perhaps two weeks before that to buy him new school equipment, and clothes—"

"Yeah," Dean says with a huff already thinking of the inch-too short school pants that he's just taken to a second-hand store, and wondering what size Christopher will need by the time August comes around.

"—And Martin and Rebecca are here until... here," he says, pointing at his schedule.

"Yes, Cas?" Dean says, already anticipating what he's about to say.

"Which means, we have approximately two weeks entirely to ourselves in between those dates," Cas says, pointing them out again on the schedule.

"What're you thinking?"

"You. Me. And Christopher. Baby. The Highway. Two weeks," Cas says, punctuating his words with kisses.

"Well. If you promise to keep your schedule free for these two weeks," Dean says, tapping at the screen and adding the dates himself, "then I'll do the same. We'll... see where we feel like driving."

"I think it would be an excellent opportunity for Christopher."

"I grew up in the Impala," Dean says absently, earning himself a huff.

" _Christopher_ is being raised in a caring, loving home, with a permanent roof over his head," Cas retorts, pressing a hard kiss to his shoulder. "I would like him to experience the joy there is to driving aimlessly, not from a life that necessitates living from motel to motel."

"Never gonna happen, Cas," Dean tells him, repeating to himself his daily promise, even if he is now planning some routes he took with his dad and Sam as a kid thinking Christopher and Cas might get a kick out of them. "Not gonna do that to either of you."

"We will need to explain why it is that you know so many places, potentially," Cas adds, and Dean knows from the look on his face Cas' thoughts are wandering to his upbringing, so wants to stave off his mood.

"We'll play it by ear. See what comes up," Dean says, nuzzling against Cas until he laughs and pushes him back.

"We will."

"You just talk me into us taking a vacation, Cas?" Dean adds as they both turn back to look at his paper, and he checks through Cas' schedule to add some more dates.

"You didn't object."

"I didn't. I'm not."

"Then, I did not talk you into anything," Cas replies with a triumphant smile, sweeping his hand down Dean's back and tugging him into his side.

* * *

"Are we early, or something?" Dean asks as he checks his watch and looks up at the school building, then back down at Jane stood by his side.

"No, I don't think so," Jane says, checking her own watch and sighing, mumbling soothing nothings at the baby held in her arms.

"How old is he now?" Dean asks, holding out a hand for the baby to take and smiling as he plays with his fingers.

"Almost seven months," she says, looking down at the boy in pride.

Jane is one of Dean's favorite moms here at the school Christopher goes to. Her daughter Sarah is in the same year as him though in a different class. Dean, when Cas isn't with him of course, so he doesn't get accused of gossiping, looks forward to seeing Jane waiting here for Sarah, just so he can catch up on the _gossip_ if there is any.

"I heard about Luke telling them scary stories," she says, rolling her eyes.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Sarah came home in floods of tears a week or so back after he'd held court in the playground telling stories about vampires eating babies. She wouldn't let James out of her sight for a week," Jane adds with a smile for her son.

"Yeah. I, uh... I haven't seen Mark around here since then," Dean says, leaning in and scouring the playground where all the other parents are waiting and not seeing him there.

"Seriously. Cas is like... I wish I could have recorded it," Jane says, shaking her head and laughing.

Dean has mixed feelings about this. He's been angry at Mark for letting Luke tell these scary stories, and is furious that it led to Christopher getting so upset. But Dean knows his husband, knows far too well the furious way he must have cornered him in this very playground in front of all these parents. He thinks half of them have looked relieved to see _him_ ever since, and wonder if it's because they're intimidated by Cas.

"Yeah, well. He, uh... he—"

"Is a total badass, according to what I'm overhearing from the kids," Jane finishes for him, grinning. "And there was us all thinking it was gonna be _you_ that was the troublesome one."

Dean presses a hand over his heart pretending to be wounded by that, and then throws his head back and laughs. "Yeah, well. Luckily for you all, you happen to keep catching me on a good day."

"Lucky for us," she agrees, laughing again.

They talk a little about Christopher's adoption party over the weekend, and Dean shares some pictures, including some great ones of Christopher with Maura.

"He'll be wanting a baby sister next," Jane teases when Dean slots his phone back in his pocket.

"Yeah, well. Don't know about that."

"You don't want more kids?" Jane asks. "I'm surprised. You're both so great with Christopher."

"Well," Dean says, hand on the back of his neck and squeezing for her compliment, "thing is, we... before we moved here, kids weren't even anything on the table, you know? Not that I didn't think about it. I just... timing wasn't right, and all that."

"Life is like that," Jane agrees, "you either wait for the right moment, or the moment's never right and it happens to you anyway."

"Yeah," Dean says, smiling. "But then we started talking about it, fostering at first, and... Christopher was only the second kid we got to. We just... fit, you know? Him, me, and Cas, just right from the beginning. He belonged with us. He was already our kid."

"I'll say," Jane says, smiling at him in affection. "He couldn't be a more perfect mix of the two of you."

Dean squeezes his neck again, unconsciously squaring his shoulders in pride. "And the thing is. Now, we're in a really good place. We've got... we can give Christopher everything he needs. Everything he wants. And he's... my childhood wasn't all that stable, and it... I wanna give him everything I can. I wanna focus all our attention, all our time, on _him_. We even... we even started a college fund for him already."

Dean smiles at the memory of Cas' research into the best way to do it, the days and days he'd spent muttering to himself and making notes, before dragging Dean into town to set up a plan.

"Already?" Jane says, laughing. "He's not even seven, yet."

"Not for another couple weeks," Dean agrees. "I tell you though. When Cas showed me the projected costs of college by the time Christopher's old enough to go—assuming he even wants to go; he can use it for anything as far as I'm concerned—it's gonna be... I'm pretty sure I had nightmares about it."

"Yeah, you're probably smart," Jane says, her smile dropping a little, "maybe we should—"

The school doors clatter open then, and Christopher is one of the first out, first seeking Dean out in the waiting crowd of parents from the top of the steps then charging down and running towards him, an ever-present painting extended in his hand.

"Hey, buddy," Dean says as Christopher throws his arms around him then shoves the painting into his hand. "What've we got today?"

He unfolds the painting, which is apparently of the Impala and Wings racing along the highway. Christopher stage whispers that he thinks the Impala will win because she has more wheels.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Jane says, smiling at Christopher as he turns to say hello.

"You will."

* * *

"Dad. _Dad_."

Dean blinks himself awake and startles groggily for the small hand gripping his arm, reaching out to grab Christopher's hand before he can get too far.

"Christopher?"

"I can't sleep," Christopher says with a deep yawn.

Dean squeezes his eyes shut then yawns himself, and gently nudges Cas from where he's fallen asleep half-draped over him to move.

"Okay, buddy. You want a drink or something?"

"I think so."

Dean squeezes Christopher's hand again and makes himself sit up, swinging his feet over the side of the bed. "Okay. Let's go get a drink."

Christopher holds tightly to his hand as they make their way downstairs, and stands patiently as Dean pours him a glass of water from a bottle in the fridge. He drinks it in big gulps, shuddering a little for how cold it is. Dean fills the glass again when Christopher is done and takes a drink himself.

"Okay. You gonna use the bathroom?"

"Can I use your bathroom?" Christopher asks as they climb the stairs again.

"Sure. Only, maybe be quiet if you can, huh? Dad's still sleeping."

Christopher nods and presses a sleepy finger to his own lips, tiptoeing past Cas still fast asleep in bed.

Dean stands in the doorway of the bathroom waiting for him to finish, planning on taking Christopher back to bed and sit with him for a while if he needs him to.

"Can I stay in here with you?"

The plea in Christopher's voice startles Dean awake a little more, and he runs through a list of salting the windows in Christopher's room, nailing iron bars over the door, and far more outlandish things besides, before he can tell himself to stop over-reacting.

"How come?"

"I had a really bad dream," Christopher says, and the shuddery way his breath comes out means Dean thinks he might be on the verge of crying.

"Hey. Hey, c'mre," he says, holding his arms out to Christopher, and resting his hand on the back of his head as Christopher wraps his arms around his waist.

"It was real bad," Christopher says, muffling it into Dean's stomach and making him flinch for the tickle of his breath against his skin.

"What was it about?"

"Robots," Christopher says with another heavy sigh, "they were all trying to eat us."

Dean allows himself a little relief that Christopher isn't having nightmares about vampires, or anything else like that. He curls over him and kisses the top of his head, nudging him out of the bathroom.

"'Course you can stay with us."

Christopher smiles and yawns up at him, nodding as Dean clasps him around the shoulders and guides him to his side of the bed.

"Okay, buddy. Climb in."

Christopher carefully kneels on the bed and crawls towards Cas, pressing his hand on Cas' shoulder for balance.

"Dean?"

"Hey. We've got company tonight," Dean calls out softly as Cas wakes, smiling as Christopher wriggles down beside Cas and Cas automatically curls his arm around him, kissing the top of his head.

"Hello, Christopher."

"Hi, Dad."

"You wanted to keep us company?"

"The robots," Christopher replies, and Cas hums in answer, still apparently far too sleepy to be trying to understand Christopher's words.

"No robots in here," Dean promises as he climbs back into bed, and arranges the covers over them all.

"Sleep, sleep, sleep," Christopher says, sounding like he already almost is.

Dean smiles, draping his arm across Christopher to rest on Cas' side and closes his eyes when he feels Cas doing the same. He feels Cas move, leans up just enough to see him, and kisses him over the top of Christopher's head before settling down to sleep again.

* * *

"Can you believe they finish for summer? Tomorrow?" Jane says as she comes to stand with Dean waiting for school to finish.

"This last semester," Dean says with a soft groan. "Where did it go?"

"I have no idea," Jane replies, adjusting James in her arms and wincing as he begins to wake up. "You got much planned?"

Dean thinks of their handwritten schedule that Cas snuck out from under the fridge magnet and made into something far prettier to look at on his tablet, even printing a copy out mumbling about unnecessary paper waste. "Yeah," he says, thinking of the busy weeks they have ahead, "a few things. You?"

Jane begins to list the things she and her family have planned, but Dean's only half-listening, because in his mind he's repeating things that have no place in a school playground.

The theft of the blood from donation centers is continuing. Dean put himself in Cas' bad books last week for staking the place out around the same time as the previous blood had been stolen without telling him first, earning himself the silent treatment for hours. The most frustrating thing was that he hadn't seen anything. Nothing suspicious, no sign of anyone going in to pick up this blood in broad daylight to suggest someone is helping these vampires out, and no sign of any vampires themselves.

Jody gave him the contact of her colleague David in the local sheriff's office, and they've been messaging back and forth now for about a week. There is nothing on their records either to suggest anything, or give them any clues to go on. Dean is even more frustrated for the idea that they're going to have to wait for this potential vampire—or vampire's little helper—to slip up before they can do anything to stop it.

"That all sounds great," Dean says in what he hopes is the right place to all Jane is telling him.

"Hey. Did you hear about that old man that got attacked behind Flemming Place?" Jane says then, leaning in so no one else can overhear.

"Flemming Place? Flemming Place Shopping Center? With like... Starbucks, and Walgreens, and that... assisted living place right opposite?"

"Yeah," she says, nodding. "Guy was apparently loading up his car after shopping and got grabbed from behind. Dragged off out of sight and... bit."

"Bit?" Dean repeats, his heart beginning to race. "What, like that nurse at the hospital?"

"Yeah, exactly like that," Jane says, gesturing at her own neck, "same marks and everything."

"That's... that's, uh—"

"You think maybe a big cat got out of the zoo, or something? Or someone's just... really, really sick-minded, and is doing this for... I don't know. Fun?"

Dean's too busy drawing himself a mental map of where everything else has happened, so it takes her calling his name a second time for him to answer. "I... what kind of cat would do that, huh?"

"What kind of a _person_ would?" Jane counters, and Dean can't really answer that.

"I don't like it, whatever it is doing this."

"No, me neither."

"Christopher's got us checking and double checking every lock, window, and door around the house," he adds, smiling and thinking that Christopher has his and Cas' instinct for protecting.

"Doesn't sound like a bad idea," Jane says. "This is the second one; what if this is some weird serial thing and it escalates? What if they start going for people in their homes?"

Jane's words only make Dean more determined, but as always seems to happen when they talk, they are interrupted by the kids finally leaving school.

"Hey, buddy," Dean says, oofing a little at Christopher's hard hug and the stack of art that Dean assumes must mean they're tidying up for the end of term.

"I think it'll be me and Cas here tomorrow," Dean says as they prepare to leave, and he holds on to a jacket of Sarah's as Jane adjusts the bag she's just given her on her shoulder.

"Oh, good. I'll be able to say goodbye before the holidays," she replies, and after exchanging a few words, Christopher and Dean are heading for the car.

"So. Dad finishes work in about an hour," Dean says as he puts the pile of Christopher's artwork in the trunk of the car and secures them so they won't get creased. "What do you want to do until we pick him up?"

Christopher busies himself with his juice box and takes a large suck on the straw, tilting his head to one side as he thinks. "Is he reading that story about the horses still?"

"Honestly? I don't know. But I think he's doing regular work this afternoon."

"Helping people with tickets and... choosing stories?" Christopher asks when Dean's run around the car and climbed in.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Okay. So can we feed the fish?"

"Check if we still have food," Dean says, waving towards the glove compartment.

Christopher carefully holds on to his juice box and opens the glove compartment, pulling out and waving a bag.

There is a tiny park with a pond in it a couple of blocks from Cas' library that they sometimes wait in for him to finish work. Today is the perfect weather for it, Dean thinks as he slips on his shades, thinking of the sunscreen and hat they have in the trunk for Christopher as he turns the car out of the school gates.

"Let's go feed some fish."

* * *

"Christopher. I have something to show you."

Dean looks up from where he's pulling together and rereading all the notes he has about these blood thefts for the controlled excitement in Cas' voice.

Christopher, sat beside him and riveted to the comic he and Dean picked up on the way to meet Cas from work on Tuesday, presses his finger into the page so he doesn't lose his place.

"Okay," he says, grabbing Dean's hand and curling his finger so he is now keeping Christopher's place, then scrambles to his feet, stumbles into the flip-flops that are probably going to need replacing for how small they're getting, and follows Cas out into the yard.

Dean looks down at the page and smiles, scrolling through the laptop screen one-handed so he doesn't lose Christopher's spot. But then he hears a loud, excited _Dad_ and is grabbing a post-it from the stack he keeps on the coffee table, sticking one of those under the line Christopher is reading, and runs out.

Christopher meets him breathlessly at the door and then races off again. Dean knows what to expect, since Cas had said to him out of Christopher's earshot last night that their latest shed resident was due to give birth at any moment.

Sure enough, when he steps into the shed and is met by what has become the familiar smell following a cat birthing, there is a calico cat and her four tiny kittens wedged in the shed corner. Christopher is practically vibrating with excitement.

"How's she doing?" he asks Cas softly, as Cas rests a hand on Christopher's shoulder trying to keep him calm. Dean takes the time to open up the small hatches he's made to let in even more air.

"She looks well," Cas says. "All the kittens, too."

"They're so _fluffy_ ," Christopher says in a loud whisper. "How long before I can hold one?"

"We should give them a few days. We don't want Mom to think we are trying to steal her babies."

It still surprises Dean that they haven't had more protests from Christopher about keeping kittens themselves, his acceptance that it just means he's got all these homes to visit to check up on them never really questioned since the first time Cas said it to him.

"But can we name them?" Christopher asks, still quivering with excitement, and so obviously trying to resist the urge to reach out.

"Of course," Cas says, and the three of them spend a few minutes coming up with names, while Dean makes a note to check the roof in one corner once the kittens are old enough to not be startled if he has to make a noise.

"I'm gonna put a bit of tarp over that for now," he says, pointing out the small hole to Cas before they step outside.

"We have kittens," Christopher yells out to Cliff Peterson making him startle as he puts a bag in the trash.

"Oh. That's wonderful news, Christopher," he says, smiling as Christopher leaps and runs around calling out the new names.

"This is worse than any sugar rush," Dean says to Cliff as he comes to stand behind Christopher and grabs him up in a hug before resting his hands on his shoulders in an attempt to keep him still.

"Yeah, I guess I'd be the same," Cliff replies, smiling hard at Christopher. "And if you're thinking about homes already, Laura's been talking about us keeping an eye out for you having new kittens for months. I'm sure she'll be over tonight asking questions and claiming one for us."

Cas' kittens always have homes within a few weeks of being born. Dean thinks this must be the third litter they've had since Christopher first came to them, and he's kind of lost count of all the other ones before that. Why cats keep coming to their shed to give birth he doesn't know, but suspects the other cats must be putting out some kind of word to the other strays in the area.

"Then, you are lucky," Cas says as he joins them, "there are already two other people who have said they want one if we had another litter here."

"Only one to find a home for?" Dean says, turning and smiling. "That's a record, even for you."

Cas smiles, and waves towards the house. "I should check what supplies we have for the cats."

"Yeah, and I should probably get to work myself," Cliff says with a groan. "I'll send Laura over tonight."

"We'll be here," Dean replies, squeezing Christopher in another hug that leaves him laughing and wriggling, before he's running back to the shed again and peering in.

"We have some old tarp in here, don't we?" Dean says as he joins Cas in the back room and starts searching through the shelves.

"I think so."

"I'll just put this up for now until... well. We'll give them a few weeks," he adds, finding the tarp and holding it up, working out what size to cut.

"Do you think we will need to make any major changes to the shed?"

"I don't think so. Unless you wanna add anything to it?"

"No," Cas says, pulling down an old blanket that they've cut up into squares to line the shed with for occasions just like this birth. "No, it would just be disappointing if we had to take it down for any reason."

"If we ever have to do that, we'll just build it right back up again," Dean promises, rolling up the leftover tarp to push back on the shelf.

He spins around, picks up a roll of duct tape and some scissors, and moves behind Cas to go back into the yard. Cas stops him with a grip around his waist, pulling Dean and turning him before he can go anywhere.

"What?" Cas shakes his head, splays his hands over Dean's hips, and leans in for a kiss. Dean wraps his arms around him careful not to catch him with the scissors, and smiles as Cas pulls back.

"What was that for?"

"Only because I wanted to," Cas replies, kissing him again before turning away to pick up the pieces of blanket. Dean follows him outside, making quick work of taping over the hole in the shed's roof, then goes back inside and resumes the research he's doing into the missing blood. Quickly clicking into a new tab as Christopher runs in still chanting the names of their new kittens.

* * *


	4. Between Two Worlds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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"Cas. You see this?" Dean yells, turning up the volume on the TV.

"What is it?" Christopher asks, and Dean winces as he hears him scraping the chair back from the dining table where he's currently painting, angry at himself for not thinking before he speaks.

"Uh, nothing, Bud," he says, then kicks himself for it. "They... they were wondering if maybe an animal or something got out of the zoo."

"Really?" Christopher says, his voice pitching up in excitement as he comes to sit beside him on the couch, transfixed by the TV.

"Yeah, maybe."

"What?" Cas asks as he walks down the stairs and joins them, looking at the news report now blaring out.

_"Zoo authorities cannot currently account for the missing animal, and blood samples taken from the scene have as yet not revealed what kind of animal may have escaped."_

"It's been years since anything escaped the zoo," Dean says, sharing a look with Cas.

"You think maybe it was the alligator?" Christopher asks, holding on to Dean's thigh as he wriggles to kneel.

"I hope not," Dean says, reaching out to grab him as Christopher misjudges the edge of the cushion and wobbles. "Besides. Hopefully, he's a little too big for us not to have seen him yet."

"You think it's coming here?" Christopher says, wide-eyed as he turns to look at him in alarm. Dean keeps his expression neutral as Cas pokes him in the side.

"No. No, I don't. He'd have a real long way to get here, anyway."

"Maybe we should move the kittens inside," Christopher says, sitting back down and looking worriedly towards the yard.

Cas nudges him in the side again, and when Dean turns his head gets a look that says _you brought that on yourself._

"Well, uh. You know, even if that _is_ an alligator out there, it... they move really slow."

"No they don't," Christopher says with a disbelieving sing-song tone, and stern enough eyebrow to rival even Cas. " _You_ told me they run up to 35 miles an hour."

"Well, they do," Dean says, immediately backtracking, and Cas is no help, leaning into his side and silently laughing. "But that's like... on real land. _Flat_ land, like... not in the middle of a city with traffic and stuff."

"Is it... is it 'cos they don't understand the colors on the lights?"

"Alligators and all crocodilian species have perfect color vision," Cas replies, making things even worse.

"Well. It's just that, see, they're... they just don't know when to cross," Dean says, and Cas has trapped his arm between them so he can't even raise it to his neck to pinch at for distraction.

"Maybe they can't press the button," Christopher says, raising his hand and studying it, apparently trying to make an alligator foot.

"Yeah. Maybe."

Cas has dropped his head and turned his face into Dean's shoulder, curled his hand through Dean's, and laughing harder still.

"Maybe your... maybe your Dad and I can... go check the kittens will be safe. Make sure it's... make sure the shed is strong enough," Dean says.

"It's a good idea," Christopher replies nodding at him solemnly, and now it's Dean holding on to a burst of laughter.

"Yeah."

"Okay. I'm gonna go paint," Christopher says then, standing up and completely forgetting the news story that's still playing.

"So," Dean says, pressing a hard kiss to Cas' forehead and mock-glaring at him when he looks up. "This thing, with this blood they haven't identified."

"You think perhaps it was a vampire that was... injured?"

"Maybe they got into a fight or something. Maybe they... maybe they thought they'd try their luck at the zoo for food?"

"This report suggests the blood was found outside the perimeter of the zoo," Cas replies, nodding towards the screen.

"If there is no trail of blood inside—"

"Then, yeah, fair enough," Dean says with a quick glance of his shoulder, deliberately keeping the TV up a little too loud in the hope that Christopher won't overhear. "Probably not an animal thing."

"I suppose it is too late for us to go with holy water to see if the blood they have found... burns," Cas says, as they watch a zoo assistant with a power wash approaching the police line and being waved through.

"I guess so."

"Just... adds another point to the area we're looking in," Dean says with a sigh, reaching for his tablet and opening up the map to drop another pin in. "It's literally around the corner from where that second blood donation place got hit."

"If there are still between ten and twenty pints being stolen each week—"

"Closer to twenty," Dean says, shaking his head, "the first few weeks at that first blood unit we knew about here and all the places before it was like that. But now whoever is doing this is obviously either getting more confident, or desperate."

"Then... eighteen? For arguments' sake?" Cas suggests, waiting until Dean nods. "The average vampire, in order to sustain themselves needs... anywhere between three and five pints—"

"Let's say four," Dean says, winking at him when Cas looks.

"Four," he agrees, smiling back. "Four pints to sustain themselves a week, unless they are particularly greedy, or newly turned. If eighteen pints of blood are going missing each week, that could mean either one or two very hungry vampires, four or five actively sustaining themselves, or... more, if they are rationing it."

"I don't like... any of these options."

"No. But since they are hitting these blood donation places only once per week, at approximately the same time, and only two actual humans have been attacked, points to, possibly, one vampire. Either for themselves, or providing for others. Or having a person supply them with this blood, which seems the most likely option."

"Still don't like it," Dean says, and Cas huffs, leaning in to kiss him.

"We don't have to like it," Cas says, with a quick glance over at Christopher sat behind them, happily painting. "We just need to deal with it."

Dean will never now justify or understand why his dad dragged him and Sam across the country in the name of revenge for his mother. There is still no reason Dean will ever think is good enough for doing anything even close to that to Christopher. But these past few weeks have taught him just how hard it is to try to organize any kind of hunting around having a family, and he thinks he now understands more than ever why it's a life so few hunters lead.

"Yeah. How?" he asks, squeezing Cas' thigh.

"I think," Cas says, leaning in for another kiss and then standing, "I am going out. Wings and I will investigate."

"Cas—"

"We will just do a circuit of the area," Cas says, nodding towards the tablet.

"How's this any better than me going _investigating_ on my own?" Dean hisses, not wanting to raise his voice.

"It isn't," Cas says with a triumphant smile. "Consider this you owing me one stupid idea."

Dean wants so badly to argue but knows he can't, so grabs Cas' hand and presses kisses over the back of it. "What am I telling Christopher?"

Cas squeezes his hand then pulls away, and Dean turns to watch him walk over to the dining table, turning down the volume on the TV so he can hear them speak.

"Christopher. If you ask your father nicely, perhaps he will make us some of that honey and pecan pie."

"Can you, Dad?" Christopher calls, leaning around Cas to talk to him and keeping hold of Cas' hand so he doesn't fall backward. Dean opens his mouth and forgets to speak for a second, not wanting to glare for the triumphant glint in Cas' eye.

"Uh. Sure. But we're... we're out of honey right now."

"Which is why," Cas says, bending to press a kiss on Christopher's neck just where he knows he'll giggle for it tickling, "I am going to see Nathan."

Christopher laughs harder as Cas keeps tickling him, wriggling and squirming in his chair.

"Is that okay?" Cas asks, wrapping his arms around him and pressing another kiss to the side of his head. Christopher nods in answer, turns just enough to smack his own kiss to Cas' cheek then wriggles to be let free, and goes back to painting. Cas saunters back to Dean with a smug look on his face, laying his hand on Dean's over the back of the couch.

"You sneaky—"

Cas silences Dean with a kiss and shakes his head. "I won't be long."

"Guess I can blind-bake my crust now. Give me something to do instead of _worrying_ ," Dean says, sighing in defeat.

"I will change," Cas says, kissing him again before turning, and leaving Dean to watch him make his way back upstairs.

* * *

"So. My cousin Max has a friend whose sister is a porter at Stormont," Robert says as he sidles up to Dean at the grill holding his plate out for another burger.

"Oh yeah?" Dean says as he picks one of the burgers up from the grill with a pair of tongs and lowers it on to the waiting burger bun. "You want some of these too?"

Robert follows Dean's hand waving to the potato wedges that have just crisped over perfectly. "Hell, yeah."

"So. this... friend of a friend. They have anything interesting to say about this blood stuff going on?" Dean asks as he picks up a few of the wedges for Robert's plate, then piles up a load more on another plate for Christopher to eat when they're a little cooler.

"Well," Robert says as he moves around him, and Dean watches him squirt far too much mayonnaise and ketchup over everything on his plate. "Apparently they arrested some guy at the hospital they found snooping around. Said he had some fake ID on him, or something."

Dean nods, hoping it isn't a hunter who's been careless, taking a glance over at Jody's friend David who is currently being shown the kittens by an ever-enthusiastic Christopher. Dean smiles at the careful way Christopher is cradling two of them, and is sure he can make out him mumbling instructions to a thoroughly enchanted David about how best to hold them.

"That's... weird," he says when Robert has moved around the table and is half-facing him again.

"It is," Robert agrees, though distracts himself with a bite of his burger.

"So. Any word on if this is related to this ca—this... blood stuff?"

"You're the one with the friend in the sheriff's office, Dean," Robert says, turning to look at David. "Maybe you should ask."

Robert, Dean thinks, is seriously a worse gossip and far nosier than Cas can ever accuse _him_ of being. But he can't pretend he isn't interested in finding out, and hopes to get David to one side to talk about it before the day is out.

"Hey, Christopher. Food's ready," he calls, and Christopher looks over at him, then at the kittens in his arms, and back up at David.

Dean watches as he carefully takes the kittens back to the shed, then runs through the garden with his hands held high calling out that he promises he'll wash them first. Dean laughs, turning as he watches Christopher step inside the house, kick his flip-flops off, and tiptoe through to the kitchen.

"He listens to you more than I do about that," Cas says as he joins him, pressing a kiss to Dean's shoulder as he too turns to watch.

"Yeah. Least someone does," Dean retorts, turning just enough to claim another kiss, and smiles for Cas' nudge against him. "You hungry?"

"Starving."

"What're you having?"

"Everything," Cas says, patting his stomach and handing Dean a plate.

Dean makes quick work of putting together a burger he knows Cas will like, adds a scoop of potato wedges to the side, and nods towards the table that's covered with an assortment of salad and other sides. "Alright. Do your worst."

Christopher rejoins them then, leaning into each of their sides in turn before carefully taking the plate Dean hands him, and following Cas as he loads them both up. He laughs when Cas draws a smiley face with his ketchup over the wedges, and picks up a slice of cucumber that he bites through to make a smile of his own.

"You're not too hot?" Dean asks, reaching out and feeling the back of Christopher's neck before looking up at the almost-cloudless sky.

"No," Christopher says, mumbled around a bite of potato wedge.

"Well. You come back to me when you're done with this and we'll put on more sunscreen anyway. Okay?"

"Dad. You worry too much," Christopher says with a heavy sigh, before turning away and heading towards Kate and Hannah, sinking to join them on the grass.

"Yes, _Dad_. You _do_ worry far too much about sunscreen," Cas replies, winking at him over the table as he tries not to laugh.

"Oh. Says the guy who checked Christopher's temperature every ten minutes when he last had a cold. Who reads the instructions and contraindications on every single thing we ever give him, yet won't take your own damn motion sickness stuff until I practically shove it down your throat?" Dean retorts, raising an eyebrow.

"Dean," Cas says, but doesn't add anything else, just smiles at him in that way he does that means it's impossible for Dean not to return it.

Dean sighs in frustration, slaps his hands down by his sides, and turns back to the grill. "Robert said something about someone being arrested at the hospital."

"A man who was recently employed by the hospital and was yet to be issued with ID, and, foolishly, I suppose, was using the ID he had from his previous hospital," Cas finishes for him before taking a bite of his burger and giving an appreciative hum.

"You already spoke to David?" Dean asks, laughing, because while it's still true that he and Robert are the neighborhood's biggest gossips, it's always Cas that has the latest scoop on everything that's happening.

"I did," Cas says. "According to him, the man was released earlier today. I can't imagine what reprimand he will face for this, but I am sure there will be some."

"No doubt," Dean replies, pleased in part that this apparently is nothing to do with all this blood that's been going missing, and exasperated at the same time that they still don't have a single good lead.

Cas smiles in obvious agreement with what Dean's thinking, opens his mouth to speak probably to say something to put him at ease. But then is turning as Greg calls him from the vegetable garden and nods in answer. "Apparently Carl wants them to have a vegetable garden like ours," he says as he leans closer to Dean across the table to tell him.

"Oh? Greg doesn't want it?"

"He does," Cas replies, shaking his head, "he just thinks that Carl's ideas are a little... ambitious for the soil type we have. I have to agree with him. I suspect he wants me to... dissuade Carl from his plans."

"You go do your thing, Cas," Dean says with a smile and winks at him, before putting a fresh batch of burgers on to grill.

* * *

"Is this the first night you've left him?"

Dean shakes his head at David's question, then shakes it again at his offer of beer.

"No. It isn't," he says, taking a quick glance around David's lounge before settling back on his face. "It's just the first time we've left Christopher with anyone so we can do... _this_ stuff."

Hunting used to be instinctual, every aspect of it, fitting him like a second skin. Yet every minute he and Cas have spent looking into this vampire thing has felt off, and uncoordinated. And _long_ , Dean adds, huffing for the memory of a simple vampire nest taking no more than a day to plan and execute in the past, when this thing is taking months.

He wants to be home. He wants to be home with Cas and Christopher, going through all the photos they took at the theme park they went to for Christopher's birthday just a couple of days ago, and arguing over which ones to print to make into a scrapbook to keep. Dean wants to lie on the couch with Cas after they've taken Christopher to bed, make out and talk and watch crappy TV until it's time for bed themselves. He wants simple, and normal, and though he's spent almost his entire life trying to convince himself he didn't want any of it, right now, stuck on this couch with Cas beside him looking over plans to catch a vampire is making him feel a little ill.

"Well. I guess you'll get used to it," David says dismissively, and it instantly gets Dean's back up, even if he didn't mean anything by it. But before he can open his mouth to answer, Cas is doing it for him.

"We will _not_ ," he retorts, glaring at David and making him freeze halfway to sitting in the armchair opposite. "We are helping with this because this is our home. Our... community. And that is all."

"Right," David says, looking between the two of them in slight disbelief. "So what happens if some other ghoul or something comes a-knocking after this one, huh? You gonna help with that too, or is this a one time deal?"

"I guess we'll see. If, and when that happens," Dean replies, and David isn't a bad person, nor is he asking anything he wouldn't once have asked himself. But Dean currently loathes the man sitting opposite him for all he represents. Then loathes _himself_ for feeling out of place in the world that was once all he'd known.

"Right," David says again, studying them both for another few seconds then nodding to the various scraps of paper on the table in front of them. "So, here's what we got."

"Just over a one-mile radius with Stormont at the center is where we're looking," Dean says before David has chance to, and opens up his own map. "Furthest point from all the others is that blood bank place that got hit outside Flemming Place. Right by where they found that weird blood near the zoo."

"Exactly," David says, nodding. "Just our luck, but cameras were out at all the blood bank places in Randolph, Norton, Tennessee Town, and Stormont Vail. As well as this place."

"That's... convenient," Cas says, frowning as he reaches forward to read through a newspaper article.

"Deliberate, maybe? Whoever this is maybe scoping the places out that won't pick 'em up on tape?" Dean suggests.

"Maybe so," David replies. "But that'd mean we've got some _human_ running round taking care of a bunch of vamps. Which, I guess we've long-suspected is what's happening anyway."

"We don't know how many yet," Dean says, shaking his head and hoping to hell it isn't anything as big as a _nest_ they're looking at.

"No, we don't," David agrees. "We do know, at least from all I could figure out from whatever's come into the Sheriff's Office, that this does seem like an isolated event here in Topeka."

"Well, that's just great."

"Is if it means we can nip this thing in the bud here before they go anywhere else," David retorts, looking Dean over in thought.

Dean doesn't like it, squirms for it even, and drops his gaze back to all the paperwork between them. "So, this has been going on since sometime in March."

"That we know about," David replies, and again Dean's hit by a wall of dislike, telling himself that he's being unfair.

"Surely any further reports of the theft of human blood coming in to your office would have raised an alarm," Cas replies in the clipped, cold tone that Dean is relieved for hearing, knowing Cas is feeling exactly the same as he is.

"Well, nothing dated before that has come through Shawnee County, anyway," David amends. "What's bothering me, aside from all these potential vampires being here, is that none of these blood packs, pouches, whatever you wanna call them, have shown up anywhere. That's... eleven weeks between Stormont and this Flemming Place, and then maybe... another twelve for the other three before then?"

"That's getting on for what... 350 pints of blood gone missing, and no one's done anything about this?" Dean says, with his voice raising in fury.

"We're doing something about this now," David points out, waving towards the table.

"But—"

"Three hundred and forty-seven," Cas says, lifting a sheet of paper and waving it, "at least, according to this collated report of yours."

"That's a helluva lot of blood," Dean says, grimacing for it.

"So... where are all the bags, huh?" David says. "That's what I'd like to know. There haven't been any reports of them showing up anywhere—believe me, we've had all sorts of stuff reported in the trash. That many bags, or even if they got rid of them week by week, they would've showed up. I'm pretty sure of it."

"So, you're saying, that there's all these bags stacking up somewhere attracting god knows what... flies... maggots, whatever. And nobody's noticed?"

"Sounds like a den, or nest to me," David says with a disinterested shrug. "They could be hoarding all kindsa things."

"If it _is_ a vampire nest, and we do nothing about this, how long is it before they begin to hoard live people to feed on?" Cas replies, his tone still just as cutting.

"Well. Like I said, there haven't been any reports of... any spikes of vermin activity or anything that would suggest these bags have been found. The six missing people—"

"Woah, what? Six people?" Dean says, his heart racing and wanting to run home, grab Christopher, pack a bag and drive them all far away.

"Of the six missing people reported over the past couple of months," David says, his own tone becoming a little more stern, "none of them were anything to do with _this_. Two were children who showed up after waiting in the wrong place for their parents after school. One was someone who went on one hell of a bender and passed out on a friend's couch. One, unfortunately, was someone who had an accident on some land they probably shouldn't have been on and got themselves electrocuted. Two were domestic violence cases. In other words, all are accounted for."

Dean wants to ask about the domestic violence cases, to know that these people are okay now, instead of turning up dead. But he doesn't think he should, doesn't know if David would even answer, so instead nods and grabs the nearest newspaper to him, skimming the highlighted headline.

"So, at this stage, at least, we aren't worried about anyone being fed off alive," David adds as he takes a swig of his beer.

"So. We could check out all the usual places we'd expect to find a nest. Abandoned buildings, warehouses, that kind of thing."

"You any idea how many of those there are, just in Topeka?" David asks with a dismissive burst of laughter.

"Well, can't be that many, right? We've got, what... 128,000 people living in Topeka. Just over 21,000 companies listed here, 9,000 of which are classed as businesses, according to the last census. 53,000 households—"

"Those are some pretty _stats—_ "

"I'm saying," Dean says, glaring at David and feeling Cas' discreet nudge in his side, "it's not... that's not all that many people, for the whole of Topeka. But it's not even the whole of Topeka that's got this going on, is it? It's all in _this_ area."

David watches the stab of Dean's finger over the map and sighs. "I'm as frustrated by this as you are. Believe me."

"Well—"

"The point is, even if it _is_ just this area, it's still a fair amount of ground to cover. We can go door to door and look at every single property that's unoccupied—and we will, if we have to. We should just... try to narrow the search."

"There are only around 2,700 people living in our zip code," Cas says then, turning over the papers nearest to him and pushing them away. "That also covers approximately a one square mile area."

"Look. I'm real happy you both got all these facts and figures," David says, becoming exasperated, "but it's not doing anything to find us these _vamps_."

"You think we don't know how to do this?"

"I think maybe you've lost your touch," David says with a huff. "C'mon, Dean. What happened to the great _Dean Winchester_ we all used to hear stories about?"

Dean can't help but hear his dad speaking to him, lecturing him about not doing enough. It hits him right where it always hits him, a punch to the gut that leaves him bracing against doubling over, ready to strike out at anyone trying to get close to him. Which in this case, would mean Cas.

Dean closes his eyes, forces himself to breathe deeper, concentrates on the line of heat that is Cas there by his side. It's an anchor, and that instinct to lash out in this environment evaporates just as quickly as it came. He turns to smile at Cas, leaning in and squeezing his thigh, even winking at him.

"I guess that's all he was. Just a story," Dean says, shrugging. "I just did my job. That was _it_. That was all any of us did. And now, I got a whole new job. And _life_."

It's not quite as easy as that. Dean knows before the evening is out he'll be feeling guilty about leaving the hunting life again, then peace at having the life he's now got. Repeatedly, back and forth, until it either sends him to sleep or he has to get up and find something to do to work it off. For now, though, he's good, comfortable in his skin and sure of what he wants.

David stares back at him as though waiting to see if he is about to say something else, then sighs and nods, and snatches up a pen. "Well. Luckily for us, I guess, there's been a spate of vandalism around here."

Dean watches as David uncaps the pen and draws out a rough rectangle that covers a good portion of the area they're looking at. "And that's lucky, because—"

"We have been asked to set up additional patrols," David says, rolling his eyes. "Apparently, gentrification really is a thing. Even here in Topeka."

"Okay?"

"So, we can use the police who are already patrolling these areas to keep an eye out. Look for anything unusual. Maybe find reasons to check out any buildings that look abandoned that might fit what we're thinking."

Dean doesn't want to know how David is going to make that happen, so just nods in agreement. "And the rest of the place?"

"Got a couple of hunters who happen to be passing through in a few days. They'll scope it out too—the rest of the area anyway. And at night when, maybe, we'll get lucky and find these bastards. I was sort of hoping you'd wanna join in for that."

"We can do that," Cas says before Dean has chance to say a word. "Today, at least. We can, if necessary, take a part of that route on the way home."

If it were just him and Cas, Dean thinks, they'd probably have been out searching at night long before now. But they can't do that to Christopher, neither leave him at home with other people every evening, or drag him along, making excuses for why they are going out for such a late drive. And he doesn't _want_ to do that, Dean adds to himself, doesn't want to risk anything to jeopardize this life he and Cas have built for themselves.

"Yeah, we can do that," Dean says, taking another quick glance over everything in front of him hoping something might stand out. "Maybe we can... maybe if we take a detour on the way back, check out around the zoo since the blood's gone missing from the place near there for probably longest than anywhere by now."

"Do we have a complete list of everyone that works in each of these places?" Cas asks.

"We do," David says, lifting up the corner of a couple of pages then pulling out another from beneath it to hand over. "There isn't anyone that stands out as working in all of the places. No one that's got anything on record that would make me suspicious. No one that shouldn't be there—"

"Well, we can't know that for sure if we don't have any cameras on any of the places, right?" Dean asks.

"True."

"Would you mind if we took a copy of this list?" Cas asks, already holding on to it as though he isn't planning on giving it back.

"Knock yourself out," David replies with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Well. We should... if we're done here, then. Call us when these hunters show up, or if you guys find anything."

"Likewise," David says with a nod when he stands, still looking at both of them as though he's trying to figure them out.

"We are never inviting him into our home again," Dean tells Cas the second they're seated in the car.

"No. We are not," Cas agrees, reaching out to squeeze his thigh.

Dean leans in and turns Cas' face to kiss him, dropping their foreheads together with a sigh. "Okay. So let's... take a detour. See if anything sticks out."

"We told Josh that we would be home for eleven."

"We should... maybe take something back so it really looks like we went to see a movie."

"Or," Cas says with a squeeze over his thigh, "we went for a drink, and started talking, and... forgot the time."

"Yeah. That's probably better, actually. I can't think of any movie I know enough about right now to answer any questions."

Cas hums in agreement, leans in to kiss Dean's shoulder, then settles back in his seat as they turn out on to the road.

* * *


	5. Investigating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****warning****
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> Okay, this story I feel only warrants a _teen_ rating. But, there is a scene coming up that is a little more, um... involved, than other stuff in Getting Domestic has been so far. Please see the notes at the end for a short explanation - so I don't spoil it for those who aren't bothered by such things :) 
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> And also... I've been very liberal with vampire lore in this... ;)
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> x

"Dean. Cas. _Go_ ," Mrs. Ferguson says as she affectionately shoos them away. "Christopher will be fine at our house. We are just across the street. You can probably hang out of your window and wave if you need to."

"Make sure you don't fall if you do," Mr. Ferguson adds as he comes to join them, adding his own teasing, affectionate smile.

"It's not that we don't trust you—"

"It's that you are two wonderful fathers who haven't had a whole night together uninterrupted since that beautiful little boy came into your life. Almost two years ago now," Mrs. Ferguson adds, and there is so much pride in her look for them both that it puts a lump in Dean's throat.

"We have not minded—"

"I know you haven't _minded_ , Cas," Mrs. Ferguson says, reaching out to squeeze his hand, "that's why we offered. Because you two are forever putting everyone but yourselves first."

"So. Go out to dinner. Catch a movie. Go home and... be _alone_ ," Mr. Ferguson adds with a conspiratorial wink that Dean blushes hard enough for receiving to make his cheeks feel like they are blistering.

"He—"

"Is happily distracted with a new paint set, a plate of cookies, and a very willing assistant curled around his feet," Mrs. Ferguson finishes for Dean, and it's true. Christopher is happily chattering away to Albus about all the new colors he has and what he wants to paint.

Dean feels so strange saying goodbye to him, knowing it's going to be more than twelve hours until they see him again. He is literally just across the street, and Dean knows Christopher couldn't be in safer hands. But it's impossible not to worry about every scenario and want to keep him safe himself. Seeing Cas struggling as well as he hugs Christopher goodbye makes it a little easier for Dean, since he wants to support him as well.

"Man. You'd think we were going away for weeks, not just going home for the night," Dean says as he snatches up Cas' hand to kiss the back of as they walk home.

"Are we too overprotective?" Cas asks as they walk, and they are so close to the Fergusons that by the time Dean is about to answer he's already feeling in his pockets for his house keys.

"Never _too_ protective."

"Do you think... perhaps, since we have the opportunity, we should take a couple of hours to look for possible places for these vampires?"

Dean looks longingly at the house, then spins and looks back at the Ferguson's place, and doesn't want to go anywhere at all. "Yeah. Probably."

"Should we go now? Later?"

"I guess it makes more sense for us to go at least when it's dark."

"It does," Cas agrees, though his heart doesn't sound in it at all.

"Yeah. But Cas, are we gonna be able to convince ourselves to go out later? What if we go now while... while we still got the nerve to?"

"I think... our time would be more effectively spent if we go later this evening," Cas says out loud, even if that's not what his eyes are saying at all as they continually dart back to the Ferguson's.

"Then let's get inside at least, huh, Cas? 'stead of us standing here gawping at our own house."

Cas nudges against him and nods, trailing behind Dean as they walk up the steps and into the house. "I will check on the kittens."

Dean nods and thinks about getting them a beer, then thinks of driving later and decides against it. He tidies away a couple of Christopher's paint brushes that were drying out from earlier, admiring his latest efforts before taking the painting through to pin on the rapidly-filling wall in Cas' seed room.

"He's really getting good," Dean says as Cas walks back in, kicking his shoes off by the back door as he slides it closed.

"Dean?"

"Christopher. His painting. _All_ his stuff."

"Yes," Cas says, smiling as he passes to wash his hands. "His attention to detail is becoming exceptional."

"That rocket ship he just did? Even had like... rivets and stuff up the sides. And a reflection, kind of, in the window."

"Did you see the drawing he did of the vegetable garden and Shiraz?" Cas asks, moving to Christopher's art closet and pulling out his current pad.

"I didn't."

"Look at the detail," Cas says with obvious pride in his voice as he turns the page. "He even captured that stubborn weed we have to keep pulling up every other week from the corner."

"Shiraz looks just as pissed off as always," Deans says as he looks at Christopher's rendering of the cat and laughs.

"Of course."

Together they turn over the various pages, smiling and commenting on what they remember of Christopher doing or saying at the time of drawing each one before they are wistfully sighing, and avoiding looking each other in the eye.

"Are we seriously this pathetic, Cas?" Dean says with a huff of laughter when Cas has put the art pad back and straightens up, stepping straight into his arms.

"If, by _pathetic_ , you mean we think the house is too quiet without him, and that we both no doubt have the urge to go back to the Fergusons right this instant, and are both coming up with terrible excuses about changes of plans. Then _yes_ , Dean. We really are that pathetic."

"Don't care," Dean says as he kisses Cas' shoulder and hugs him tight.

"We have several hours before it will be dark enough to go out to make our search effective," Cas says after they've held each other for a few minutes, mumbling it into his shoulder. 

"Anything you feel like doing 'till then?"

"We could... watch something," Cas says, though his voice is full of doubt.

"See what's on," Dean agrees, and together they walk over to the couch. "Want something to eat?"

"Not yet."

"Maybe we can eat when we head out."

"If this is your way of saying that you want us to get take out—"

"That burger place," Dean whispers as he sits, leaning in to kiss him. "The one that puts all that crispy bacon on top. And all that fried onion you love so much."

"With the potato wedges, and that sour cream. Yes," Cas says in agreement, stroking his hand along Dean's thigh.

"Yeah, that place."

"Then I think it is a perfect idea," Cas replies, raising his arm for Dean to cuddle into him and settling back as Dean reaches for the remote.

They work their way through several channels, finding nothing that holds their interest for long. Cas asks him to stop briefly to hear a news report about a new legislation involving pesticide, and grumbles about it until Dean kisses it from him, sagging further down in the couch.

Dean cradles Cas' face turning him towards him, and leans in for an unhurried kiss. Cas' fingers curl in the front of Dean's t-shirt before he's tugging it up and splaying his hand over his bare skin. Dean hums for it, smiling as Cas' thumb brushes over a nipple, and with a quick glance at the door leans forward, tugging his t-shirt off altogether.

Cas' eyes are on him immediately and glinting with both amusement and intent.

"You know, Dean. It has been... a very long time, since you and I were last naked together on this couch."

"Yeah. Yeah, it has been, Cas," Dean agrees as Cas shifts without warning to straddle his lap. He slips his hands beneath Cas' own t-shirt and smiles when Cas holds his arms up, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the floor.

"I locked the back door," Cas says, slowly running his fingertips down over Dean's chest.

"I did the front."

"Then, unless we have unexpected visitors, we have the time," Cas says, hooking his elbows over Dean's shoulders and leaning in for a slow kiss, sighing as their chests press together.

Dean closes his eyes, pulls Cas closer to him, and sweeps his hands wide over his back. He relishes in the smoothness of it beneath his palms, then relishes even more slipping his fingers into Cas' jean pockets and pulling him closer. Cas takes the hint and slowly begins rocking in his lap, with Dean sliding a little further down the couch so they're pressed together at the perfect angle.

"Well, you feel good," Dean says as he slides his hands repeatedly over Cas' thighs before grabbing his ass again and rolling up beneath him.

"Dean," Cas replies, saying nothing else before dropping his forehead on his shoulder, then beginning to mouth a path up his neck. Dean chases his mouth, smiling as Cas pulls back just enough to start unbuttoning his jeans.

"Thought we were in no hurry?"

"We won't be," Cas says, and the glint in his eye tells Dean he means once they're both naked.

Dean feels out of the shape of Cas through his jeans and earns himself a nip to his earlobe that sends a shoot of heat through his core. Cas splays his hand on Dean's stomach as though he can feel that heat and smiles, sliding from Dean's lap to stand and pulling him up with him. Cas' hands are immediately on him, molding over Dean's length as he thickens in between tugging his jeans down to mid-thigh.

One tug too hard and Dean stumbles forward, and they laugh together, holding each other up for balance and moving away from the too-small space between their coffee table and couch to be undressing, then strip each other bare.

"Yeah. You're right, Cas. This is better," Dean says, wrapping his fingers around Cas where they're stood and his stomach fluttering for the soft moan he lets out.

But then Cas is reaching for him and Dean turns a little, steadying his hand on Cas' hip as he watches their hands. Cas changes his grip and presses his thumb in this spot he knows full well will make Dean whimper, squeezing on to his shoulder tight as Dean's knees buckle a little.

"We should sit," he says, grabbing Dean's hips and nudging him until he takes the hint and sits back on the couch. Dean slides his hands up Cas' thighs as he stands in front of him, then guides him to straddle his lap.

They move together slowly again, breaking their kiss only to watch themselves knocking and sliding together, or when they reach out to stroke each other over and the feel of it leaves them calling out. Dean grabs Cas around the hips and hoists him up, smiling for the sounds he makes as he begins to mouth over his length. Cas' fingers are out and playing with his hair, cupping the back of Dean's head as he slides into his mouth with a deep groan punching out of him.

"Dean," Cas growls out, and then Dean is letting out a burst of laughter for Cas manhandling him until he's on his back on the couch.

"You got me where you want me, huh, Cas?" he says, raising his legs as Cas settles between them then moving until he has enough leverage to be able to thrust up beneath him.

Cas calls his name again, pulling back just enough to arrange them where they're now pressed together, then tumbles forward and begins to mouth over Dean's throat. They move together, with Dean grabbing Cas' ass to grind up against him, and Cas stirring his hips in the exact way he knows Dean wants.

"We got a while, Cas," Dean whispers, and Cas slows down, adjusts a little before leaning in to kiss him and blasting out a contented sigh.

"Hours," Cas agrees, with another quick glance down between them, before he's settling once again and claiming Dean's mouth.

When they're breathless and shuddering for the lingering waves of pleasure surging through them, Dean hugs Cas close, and kisses the side of his head. Cas presses his nose into his neck and hums there making Dean smile, then lifts up just enough to look at him.

"Perhaps not _hours_ ," Cas says, amusement making his eyes crinkle in the corners.

"I guess we just got used to being quick about it."

"Not always," Cas says, brushing their lips together as he shakes his head in denial. "Last week. When Christopher went to Jason's for the afternoon."

"True," Dean smiles, another wave of heat surging through him for the reminder of a lazy few hours in bed when they had definitely taken the time to enjoy each other.

"When Josh took Christopher to the park on Sunday," Cas adds, and Dean snorts for it as he nods, remembering hastily throwing on clothes and charging down the stairs to answer the door as Cas straightened up their room, wetting his hair just enough to say he'd been in the shower.

"Okay, so... maybe not _all_ quick," Dean says, arching up beneath him then grimacing for the mess they've spilled between them.

"It has just been a while since this happened... here," Cas says, lifting up to look at that mess and groaning, grabbing his t-shirt from the floor to wipe them up.

"Wanna take a shower?"

"I think we need to," Cas says as he stands, holding his hand out for Dean to pull him to his feet.

"A long shower," Dean adds, crowding up against him again and squeezing his ass, then apologizing when realizes he's got Cas' leg trapped between the table edge and his own. Cas smiles, taking his hand and leading Dean upstairs.

* * *

"I think someone must be drugging these staff in these blood donation units," Dean says as Cas steps inside from the yard.

Cas looks behind him, then back at Dean in reproach, and seconds later Christopher comes tumbling in after him, quickly kicking off his flip-flops then charging upstairs.

"I thought you were just coming in for drink," Dean says quietly, holding up his hands in protest.

Cas and Christopher have been weeding for almost an hour now, a job that Dean knows only needs about ten minutes given they only did it a few days ago. But keeping Christopher away from the kittens now that they are moving around a lot more and he's already outside is a task all on its own.

"It's beginning to rain," Cas replies, and Dean turns to look out of the kitchen window, noticing the first few spots on the pane of glass.

"Oh."

"You were saying?" Cas says, opening the fridge and pulling out the iced tea and a bottle of juice that he pours a glass of for Christopher when he comes back down. "What would you like?"

"Juice," Dean says, grabbing a second glass from the dish drainer. "And just... I've been going over all the people working in these units. These all look like decent people. They've got nothing on their files to suggest that there is any reason to suspect them of lying. So... what if someone's coming in, drugging them, making off with the blood and then... they don't remember anything, because they can't?"

"Temporary memory loss?"

"Well, yeah, Cas. I don't know how else we can explain this if everyone working in these places is legit."

"I suppose. But who? And with what?"

"I don't know, Cas," Dean says, sighing. "I mean. First, they'd have to get in there and find some way to drug them. Then they'd have to get out again with all these pints of blood."

"Which, I suppose they could do in a bag, or wearing an oversized jacket."

"Like that trench coat of yours, Cas?" Dean says, biting on his lower lip and looking Cas up and down.

Dean has some very, very fond memories of that trench coat that he likes to dwell on sometimes. Cas smiles, and Dean is fairly sure he's sharing some of those memories for the smug way he tilts his head back and just lets him _look_.

"Yes. Exactly like that," Cas replies, quickly leaning back to glance up the stairs and then crowding Dean back against a kitchen counter, and kissing him hard.

"Can I draw something?" Christopher says making them both jump, with rueful looks for one another for how distracted they are.

Christopher is already over at his art closet and pulling out a pad of paper, so he's planning on drawing anyway. Not that either Dean or Cas object.

"Sure, buddy," Dean calls out, turning to wink at Cas as he pulls away.

"What can I draw?"

"Well," Cas says, taking the glass of juice he's poured him over to the dining table where Christopher is organizing himself, "can you remember what the kittens look like?"

"Of _course_ I can," Christopher says, giggling. "We just _saw_ them."

"Well," Cas says, smiling as he inspects a pencil and grabs a sharpener from Christopher's pencil case, "perhaps those. Then you can show Kate and Hannah when you go to theirs tomorrow."

"Okay," Christopher agrees, wriggling to get comfortable and grabbing a different pencil.

"We would need to know who was going into these places," Cas says in a low voice as he comes back into the kitchen to sharpen the pencil directly into the trash.

"Yeah," Dean agrees, "so we just... need to figure out how. And who."

Cas holds up his hand telling Dean to wait as he returns Christopher's pencil and sharpener, then nods for him to follow him over to the couch. "Since Christopher is spending the afternoon at Jessica and Todd's, and I am working for most of the day—"

"I guess I could... go creep outside this place near the zoo and see if anyone shows up I don't like the look of," Dean finishes for him, nodding, already having considered the idea.

"Perhaps we should have made the time to do so before now," Cas adds, and Dean hates that he feels guilty when this isn't their sole responsibility at all.

"Yeah, well. If these places keep getting hit on Tuesdays, when you're at work, and I'm either working or with Christopher, it's not like we've had much chance, Cas."

"I suppose not," Cas agrees, though that guilt is still there in his eyes, and Dean leans in to kiss it away.

"And if nothing comes up then I guess we just... keep looking," Dean says, wanting this thing over now more than ever. The days are disappearing so quickly, and it's only a couple of weeks away really before they'll have guests when Martin and Rebecca arrive.

Cas nods in agreement, taking a sip of his iced tea, turning to check on Christopher and then reaching out for the remote, finding them something to watch.

* * *

"Cas. _Cas_. You home?"

Dean listens out for signs of either Christopher or Cas and hears nothing, curses under his breath for being later than he wanted, and turns around again, walking up the street and heading to Jessica's house.

He can hear Christopher in the garden playing some exaggerated game of tag with Kate and Hannah, and probably with their dog Moon, who they rescued from a shelter almost eight months ago now. Dean makes his way around the side of the house, laughing as he sees Moon standing panting in the middle of the yard wagging her tail and looking around her as Kate, Hannah, and Christopher continue to run.

"You're here," Jessica says sounding pleased, calling for Cas who is already inside the house.

"Hey, Cas," he says, leaning in to kiss him as he steps outside. "I'm sorry. I got held up."

"Is everything okay?" Cas asks quietly, holding on to his hips to keep him close.

"Yeah. Maybe. We'll talk later," Dean replies with a discreet nod towards Jessica.

"You gonna stay for a beer? Maybe some dinner? We were thinking of getting takeout."

"Sounds great," Dean says, thankful for the thought of not having to cook, and glad for the idea of a little _normal_ before he talks to Cas.

Though as soon as they are home a few hours later, and a sleepy Christopher is half-heartedly letting Dean wash his hair in a much-needed shower for all the grass and mud he seems to have ground into it, Dean is itching to tell Cas what he thinks he's found out.

"It's coffee, or something," Dean says the moment they are alone.

"Coffee? What is coffee?"

"This whole blood thing."

"Dean—"

"Listen, Cas," Dean says, squeezing Cas' hand. "I was there for almost two hours, just watching. I saw people going in to donate blood, or ask whatever questions people ask in these places—some of them coming out with flyers and stuff, so I guess they had a lot of questions."

Cas nods, gesturing to see if Dean wants a drink, and pouring them both a glass of wine.

"So, I kept watching. There were a couple of people in suits going in with cases, who I guess were sales reps or something. Watched them, nothing seemed weird, cases didn't seem any bigger, or heavier than when they arrived. Only person who was in there who stuck out like a sore thumb was this guy handing out free samples of coffee—to the staff, obviously."

"Any form of caffeine is supposed to narrow veins making donating blood a more difficult task," Cas says.

Cas would know, Dean thinks, reaching out and squeezing his thigh in sympathy. Not long after they had moved here Cas had been looking into all kinds of voluntary work before he started his job at the library. He had been considering donating blood, and spent several days researching everything it entailed. But when he realized that he couldn't, and why he was not allowed to, his fury at the discrimination of it had simmered for several long weeks.

"Yeah. So I guess—I mean, I thought—that this guy must have come from the nearest coffee place, and... I don't know. As a gesture, or something, given the staff coffee. Or... maybe they ordered it, or something. I don't know."

"You believe he added something to their coffee?"

"I do," Dean says, "so I went in and asked 'em."

"Dean—"

"Relax, Cas," Dean says, leaning in to kiss him, "I didn't stick around too long or do anything suspicious, I promise. I didn't even really _ask_ them about it. I just... ducked in and asked for some leaflets, looked for the name of the coffee place on the cups, and left."

"And?"

"Well, there _weren't_ any names," Dean says, correcting himself, "but I looked around. One coffee place near it, about ten minutes away. Same logo on the t-shirts and aprons as this guy I saw going into the blood place. He was wearing a really big jacket; far too hot for something like that today."

"Did you see him in there?"

"No. But I got a coffee anyway, stuck around, listened in on the staff talking. Turns out this guy is some kinda loner dude who keeps himself to himself. Only worked there for a few weeks. Worked in other coffee places before, according to them."

"Conveniently, the same length of time this blood has been stolen?" Cas asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Exactly."

"So, what about the other places?"

I might've... gone snooping around a little. Maybe asked some questions."

"What questions?" Cas asks, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

"I just... I went to the other place who got blood stolen. I… I figured out which cafes, or coffee places might be… you know, he probably worked at. Went in to a few, made up some story about some weirdo scaring my kid sister—what?" he says when Cas glares harder at him.

"Dean. We _live_ here. We _live_ here, Dean. We cannot tell these... lies, however small they are, on our own doorstep."

"These places aren't exactly on our doorstep—"

"Yet there are now however many coffee shops we will have to avoid in case they recognize _you_ ," Cas points out.

"Three in total," Dean admits after a pause. "Maybe a couple more, just in case," he adds, thinking of the two others whose staff had looked at _him_ in suspicion for asking questions.

" _Dean—_ "

"But listen," Dean says, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "Definitely sounds like the same guy at all these places. Sounds like he's been fired from each one for creeping people out after a while. And get this. The last manager I spoke to said she caught him putting some kind of herb or something into one of the customer's coffees."

"This man gave free samples of coffee away to staff in these blood banks, and drugged them just long enough to be able to steal up to twenty pints of blood at a time?" Cas summaries for him, sounding unconvinced.

"Look. I admit it, Cas," Dean says, squeezing his hand again, "it sounds... it doesn't sound great. But we've heard worse stories, right? And I mean... all those times he hasn't taken so much blood, maybe it was just the stuff in the coffee wearing off quick and him getting interrupted."

"Okay—"

"So, maybe I looked the guy up," Dean adds, pinching the back of his neck and bracing for Cas' glare. Cas narrows his eyes again and nods for him to continue. "And maybe he... maybe he lives in real easy walking distance from all the places where this blood was taken from. This newest place near the zoo is the furthest out."

"You think the vampires are living with him?"

"No. No way," Dean says, grimacing at the reminder of the almost perfect-looking neighborhood he'd driven in to, thinking just how out of place the guy seemed to be in comparison to the house he pulled up in front of. "I don't even know if that's really his place, or his parent's place, or just a place he's got listed as his. But it's too... there's no way there are any vampires living in that place. I'm sure of it."

"Okay. If you are sure, then I am sure," Cas says, smiling at him. "What's next?"

"Well. Now I have a name— _Trevor Rees_ —I've... passed it on to David. Let him check him in the system, and... I don't know, Cas. Least we know it's not an actual vampire doing this."

"No, but he must be supplying them with this blood."

"I guess we... if he doesn't come up on any records, then... I guess we can follow him now we know where he works."

"I—"

"And," Dean says, holding his hand up to ask Cas to wait and walking back over to where he's hung up his jacket, taking out the crushed coffee cup he's got in a ziplock bag and waving it as he walks back to Cas.

"This is from the blood bank you were watching today?" Cas asks as he takes the bag from his outstretched hand.

"It is. Maybe we can figure out what he's putting in this coffee. Maybe it'll lead us to him, somehow."

Cas pulls a newspaper from beneath the coffee table and spreads it out over it, adding a couple of additional layers as Dean takes out the cup.

"Gross," Dean says as he unfolds the top he's carefully rolled over and tips out the residual liquid from the cup, "that's... that _stinks_."

Cas leans forward to peer at the concoction and grimaces. "Give me a moment."

Dean nods, picking up a pen that he'll throw in the trash when he's done and moving the small amount of liquid around on the paper with it, finding nothing else unusual. Cas joins him again and uncaps a small bottle of what Dean assumes is holy water, watching it fizz when he pours it.

"Gross," Dean says again pulling back from it in disgust. "This guys' been giving people vampire blood to drink?"

"I suppose in small quantities with some herbs it might be an effective albeit temporary... suppressor."

"Of memory?"

"Yes."

"What kind of herbs?"

"Well. Ginkgo. Ginseng. Rosemary. Bacopa is popular at the moment as a memory enhancer. If combined with vampire blood and some other herbs, perhaps it is effective in having the opposite effect."

"I... guess we could've kept this for David to get analyzed or something," Dean says, waving at the spilled mess over the newspaper.

"Well. I suppose that is the next step. Let's see if David comes up with anything for this... Trevor."

"And... we still need to find these vamps. Especially if for any reason their supplier isn't around now that we're on to him," Dean adds, thinking of hungry vampires creeping out of their hiding place and attacking people on the streets.

"Dean. We will speak to David. These hunters he mentioned are due to arrive any time now. With this address, perhaps we at least can narrow our search for wherever this... nest might be."

"I hope so," Dean says, groaning as he drops his head on to Cas' shoulder, then drapes his arm across his waist and holds on tight.

* * *

"So. Good news is, this Trevor guy's confessed to stealing all this blood," David says, with a quick glance at the neighboring tables in the diner they're meeting in to make sure no one is listening.

Dean looks around him too, jarred with the image of their old life knocking up against their current one, feeling it's that much harder for being in a place that's a reminder of a constant life on the road. Cas rests his hand on his thigh beneath the table, and Dean reaches down to squeeze and cover it with his own.

"Okay. And the bad?" Dean asks, bracing for hearing all kinds of terrible things.

"Well. It wasn't exactly an official confession?" David says, screwing his eyes up as though he's not sure of what he's saying.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," David says, leaning in, "that we don't have anything on record for it down at the Sheriff's Office. It means that apparently, Trevor thought he was somehow buying himself an eternal life by keeping these vampires well-fed. And now he's run off wherever, who's to say he won't seek out more of them, and do it elsewhere?"

"We... he can't have just... disappeared," Dean protests, shaking his head and anchoring himself with another squeeze of Cas' hand.

"Yeah. Well, he _has_ ," David says, staring at Dean. "You did it enough times yourself, I'm sure. We all have, living this life."

Dean nods, doesn't like it, but doesn't have anything to answer with.

"So. Officially. How are we ever gonna write up that much blood going missing taken by one guy?" David says. "News gets out about some... weirdo drinking all that blood or something—"

"It wasn't him—"

"Well, what's the alternative?" David asks, stopping Dean from interrupting. "Admitting he's been taking it to keep a bunch of vampires alive?"

Dean sighs, but nods in agreement, absently playing with his cup of coffee then lifting it to drink thinking it's already going cold.

"What happens now?" Cas says, and Dean catches the stoop of David's shoulders, so can expect nothing good.

"Our, uh... well. The guys that came through. The hunters," David says with another quick look around them, "I guess they must have scared him something awful. Because when they were done talking to him, and they were calling me, was when he managed to sneak out. Off. Somewhere; I don't know. I put out a search for him and no one's seen him around in hours."

"When did they speak to him?" Dean asks, because he'd expected David would have let him and Cas at least know there were hunters in town.

"Last night."

"So this guy's just... left?" Dean says, his voice getting even higher, because this is part of the fear. If this _Trevor_ has disappeared and doesn't get back before the next time the vampires are expecting to be fed, are these vampires going to escape in search of a meal on their own?

"Seems that way. The address he has on all his official documents is a false one, just like you suspected," David says, and Dean groans for it.

"Well, that's just great."

"The guys, they said he didn't even sound like he was from around here. Had a real heavy New York accent, apparently. The little bit of history I found on him says he came here for school and dropped out after a couple of months, two or three years back."

"Where?"

"Washburn University. Apparently attended a total of four classes, and no one remembers seeing him on campus again. Even the guys in the dorms with him said they never saw anything of him after about a month."

"So—"

"And, since we're on a roll with not-awesome news," David says, darting his eyes away.

"What?" Cas says, stern enough to have David whipping back around to look at him in surprise.

"The, uh, the hunters. They left for another case right after... _interviewing_ him."

"Already?" Dean says, furious even if he's never met these hunters before, and doesn't even know their names. "Why?"

"Seemed to think we could handle this between ourselves," David replies, with that look he has for Dean that seems like disappointment in him. "Said they'd try to loop back around if they had time. If they had to. They kind of... Dean. They assumed _you_ would have this all settled yourself by the end of the night. Before, even."

"Where should we continue our search?" Cas says, and Dean's relieved for it, not trusting what he might say himself if he speaks.

"We didn't turn up nothing here," David replies, tapping over an area of a hastily drawn map and drawing lines through it. "So there isn't too much more to search."

"But we need to do it, now," Dean says, glancing at his watch, and panicking for all the excuses they might need to make to keep Christopher with their friends and neighbors while they do this. He hates himself for it even though he knows this isn't his fault. "We can't wait till these... we can't wait until they get hungry again. What happens if they—"

"Well. I've got a patrol myself tonight that I'll... I'll try looking myself," David says, seeming nowhere near as concerned about this as Dean thinks he should be. "But we're kind of thin on the ground what with annual leave for summer vacations and stuff. We'll just have to muddle through."

"Muddle—"

Dean's reply is cut off as David's phone rings, and after a few mumbled words, it's clear he needs to head back to work.

"I'll be in contact," David says, and Dean gets the impression he's being dismissed.

Dean opens his mouth to protest but David is already leaving, and Cas scowls after him before turning to look at Dean.

"We should go home. We need to work out a plan for this, _quickly_ , and—"

"We've got so many people who'll happily take Christopher for a few hours," Dean says as he nods for Cas to stand and they make their way outside. "But what do we tell him? What do we tell _them_? I'm not... I'm not making up stuff, or lying to him, Cas. I'm _not_."

"But we can't tell him the truth either," Cas replies when they get into the car, and they grip each other's hand, staring across the seats looking for answers neither one of them has.

"Claire—"

"Would happily come here to take care of Christopher, but would then also likely argue that she help with this hunt herself," Cas finishes for him, and Dean is already nodding in agreement, not wanting to put Claire in any danger either. Even if she'll roll her eyes at him and accuse him of being a helicopter dad like she has done so many times already if he dares say that out loud.

"And we can't just... I don't wanna send him off to Sam and Eileen, or Mom for a few days just 'cos of... I need him here," Dean says, and he _does_ need Christopher. He doesn't know how he's going to be able to concentrate on any of this when worrying about Christopher back at home.

"As do I."

"Then... how the hell are we gonna find these damn vampires, and not make our son think he's... we can't do any of that to him, Cas. We _can't_."

"And we won't," Cas replies, with fierce conviction in his voice that Dean thinks is for them both. "We will plan, and we will do everything it is possible to do."

"We need to get back for Christopher," Dean says, glancing at his watch and starting the engine. "We said we'd drop him off to play for a couple hours."

"We have barely been an hour," Cas says as he glances at his phone. "Perhaps we should... buy something. Pretend that we have been grocery shopping."

"I don't like it, Cas," Dean growls out, slinging his head back hard against the car seat. "I don't like _lying_ like this. Even if it's... even if it's for his own good. This isn't his _life_ , Cas. Maybe it's ours—maybe it _was_ ours. But it's... I don't like it."

"No," Cas says with a hard sigh, "neither do I."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas have a little time on their own, and, well. Enjoy each other :D it's only a little frottage and smooching, and there isn't a massive amount of detail, but I'm aware everything else in this series has been so tame, I thought a little headsup might be a good idea!
> 
> <3


	6. The Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I hope you heard _This Is The Hunt_ if you read the chapter title and thought of Ruelle and Shadowhunters, so sue me ;)
> 
> So, we're at the end already! I hope you've enjoyed Dean and Cas' little step back into hunting - though this is still set very much in the Getting Domestic 'verse so there isn't a huge amount of detail about that particular adventure :)
> 
> <3

"Have an awesome day, okay, buddy?" Dean says as he hugs Christopher a little tighter than he probably needs to, and then has trouble letting go of him.

Christopher nods up at him in excitement as he pulls away and runs to hug Cas, then is running out of the house after Kate and Hannah, the three of them yelling and chattering over one another about their day ahead.

"You have... no idea what you're letting yourself in for," Dean says to Jessica as she watches them run.

"What do you mean? Three hyperactive kids running round both a zoo and some... interactive kids park for the whole day? Piece of cake," Jessica says with a burst of laughter.

"Thank you so much for inviting Christopher," Cas adds, and Jessica waves it away.

"It makes sense. Todd got all these free admission passes through work. And these three are probably gonna spend half the summer together anyway doing one thing or another. It'll be great for them all."

"Well. Still," Dean says, snatching up his wallet from the kitchen counter and handing over what is probably far too much money to compensate.

"Dean—"

"Please. Dinner, ice cream, whatever, for all of 'em, okay? You're taking him for the full day, Jessica. It's the least we can do."

That Cas doesn't add a single word about making sure that dinner involves  _vegetables_  knots Dean's stomach tighter, for the reminder of just how anxious he is feeling as well.

"Well. We'll have him back around seven, so you... make the most of your day," Jessica says, putting the money in her bag and adjusting it on her shoulder.

"We have a ton of errands to run," Dean says, rolling his eyes at the idea, and hoping it's convincing enough for Jessica to buy it.

"Oh, I know what you mean," she agrees. "Sometimes they all just stack up on each other until you've got no choice but to do them all in one go."

Dean smiles in agreement, and together he and Cas walk her out, waving to Christopher in the car until they disappear from sight.

"The timing could not have been better," Cas says as they watch after the car for several more seconds even though it's already gone, then together they turn back into the house.

The closing of their front door behind them with Christopher out somewhere on the other side of it helps Dean in a way, to focus his head on the task that lies ahead. Then leaves him instantly guilty for the thought of being  _pleased_  of Christopher being anywhere but here with them.

"We lucked out," Dean agrees as he throws himself down on the couch and grabs a pad of paper from where he shoved it behind a couch cushion when Jessica had arrived. "So."

"We need to check all of these over as much as we can today, in daylight, while we have the chance," Cas says, running his finger over the lists the two of them have put together overnight.

They've barely slept, researching every place they can possibly think of that might be where they will find these vampires, after scrolling through every property list they could find online. They have even split them into three categories ranging from most to least likely candidates, and Cas is so on edge that he didn't even make a comment about making their lists look  _more legible_  by reproducing it on his tablet, color-coded. Dean wishes he could tease him for it for a sense of their  _normal_ , but can't bring himself to.

"Okay. We should hit these ones first," Dean says instead as he glances through the lists again, despite memorizing most of what's written there already.

"If we see anyone we know, we will say we are... geocaching. Or looking for... Pokemon gyms," Cas adds, tapping over one of the addresses Dean assumes he thinks they should try first.

"Do people still do that?"

Cas shrugs, glancing at his phone before standing. "We should go now."

"Can't even guarantee we'll get all these covered today," Dean says as he joins him, dropping his head on Cas' shoulder and falling into a hug.

"We might be lucky and find what we are looking for immediately."

"Yeah. I guess," Dean says, but doesn't have the confidence for it to put much effort into his voice. Cas squeezes his fingers as he steps back, then leans in to kiss him.

"Dean. We will deal with this. We have to."

* * *

They spent all of yesterday searching, avoiding awkward conversations with people they ran into and finding nothing at all. They were home just minutes before Jessica returned a sleepy Christopher to them and both crashed out for a few hours on the couch after getting him ready for bed, only to wake up and go over all their lists again.

The moment they pull up outside a boarded-up former clothes store that is so dilapidated it can't have been open in years, Dean and Cas look at each other in silence, certain of what is waiting for them inside. After a quick circuit, Dean thinks he's got at least the layout of the shop floor worked out. He nods to Cas quickly, who looks back at him just as grim as Dean is feeling, then takes a deep breath.

This building, now that they've seen it, seems like such an obvious choice for a vampire den that Dean could half-kick himself for not finding it sooner. And his discreet peek into it through a back door that he hopes is the most shielded from inquisitive passersby also makes him wonder how no one has said anything about it before now. There are filthy, torn sheets up at each of the windows, and behind those, boards, making the inside of the store almost pitch black. He can't know what to expect upstairs, or even if there is a basement, but from the looks of the size of the building Dean is fairly sure there must be. He squints and follows the beam of light from his flashlight, feeling his stomach boil for what he sees.

Even with this glance over the place for only a few seconds, Dean has found those blood bags that Trevor has been stealing for these vampires scattered everywhere across the floor. The place stinks, with maggots and flies buzzing and writhing in droves, and Dean retches when he realizes the sleeping bag curled up nearest the door means Trevor must have spent at least some nights sleeping here amongst all this crap. It's a health hazard if nothing else, and once this nest is dealt with Dean thinks David is going to have to do at least _something_ useful, by arranging for some kind of sanitation or clean-up crew. The smell is so bad that it sticks with him even after he jumps back outside to suck in fresh air the second he spots three sleeping vampires in the furthest corner.

"We could just... go in there now while they're asleep and just... gank the lot of them," he says, blinking in the daylight and wanting this over and done with now, instead of having to come back later to do it.

"I would agree," Cas says as he looks around them. "Though this is broad daylight, where anyone can see us standing here looking suspicious, and we have no idea however many are in there."

Cas is right, and Dean is glad to have his rational voice here to stop him from charging back into the store even though he's told himself he wouldn't. Dean smiles, reaches out and squeezes Cas' hand, tugging him closer and making their way back towards the Impala.

"So. We'll call David. Make sure we all know what we're doing."

"We need to warn Josh that we might be a little later than normal tonight," Cas adds, and Dean's stomach is in knots. The thought of Josh alone in their house watching the clock for them not being home when they said they would be fills Dean with dread, though not as much as the idea of them not making it home at all, and Christopher being alone in the world again.

He grips tight to the steering wheel talking himself into and out of a number of different solutions. Of dealing with these vampires himself and pleading with Cas to go home so at least Christopher has one of them safe with him. Then of him and Cas fighting side by side and clearing this potential nest out by themselves. And then the scenario that appeals the most and he's furious with himself for even wanting so much, of them just walking away, and leaving it to hunters who aren't out of practice, who don't have Christopher waiting at home for them.

"Dean. We don't have to do this," Cas says, and Dean can't count the number of times Cas has said this to him ever since they first decided to take an active part in this case.

"But if we don't, Cas. If we don't. And we let someone else deal with it. And even if everything goes perfectly. What if we... Cas. What if we forget how to do all this stuff, huh? And someone comes creeping into our place someday, and we're just not good enough anymore. And... and they get to Christopher, and—"

"We will not forget how to  _do_  any of this," Cas says, reaching across the seat to hold his hand. "We will defend Christopher from... everything. Not that we will ever, hopefully, have to defend him from anything supernatural."

"He's already had to deal with it once. Not gonna let it ever get to him again," Dean says with conviction that again almost sends him jumping back out the car and charging into the store to end these vampires once and for all.

"Dean," Cas says softly, squeezing his hand, "we won't. Christopher will be fine."

"Do we really wanna do this, Cas?" Dean asks, slumping in his seat exasperated with himself for second-guessing and his constantly convoluted thoughts.

He isn't the Dean Winchester he was just a few years ago, when he would have likely stormed into the empty store before them now without a single thought, or even a call for backup. And yet he  _is_  that Dean, really, that is still the essence of who he is. Otherwise, he wouldn't be sat here in the first place. But he's now a husband, a father, a neighbor, and a friend, to so many people. And an uncle, he thinks, smiling for the thought of baby Maura, who Dean suspects will always look tiny in Sam's arms. And just the thought of  _her_  coming to any harm renews his determination, leaves Dean glaring at the building in front of them as though  _it_  is the thing at fault.

"What do you want to do, Dean?"

"What do  _you_  wanna do?" Dean counters, looking to Cas for guidance when he knows it isn't fair to lay the decision all on him.

"I want this situation... resolved. I need to  _know_  it's resolved. I want us to... play a part in getting it resolved," Cas adds with a heavy sigh.

"We could... I mean, we  _have_  played our part already, though, right, Cas? I mean, we researched all this, looked up the place, just scoped it out. For all David's talk of us being... I don't know. Not wanting to _help_ , we've done a damn sight more than he ever has."

"It still doesn't feel like enough," Cas says, and Dean watches him huffing in frustration at himself.

"No. It doesn't," Dean agrees after a long pause, hating himself for it but not knowing how else to think.

"Then, I suppose we have made our decision on what we want to do here," Cas replies with a tight smile.

It hits Dean again, then, that the pair of them, with all the experience they have, are sat here debating what should be a simple kill. It is, worst case scenario, a vamp nest, and at best, just a small group of them that have so far not caused too much harm. He feels stupid, and out of his depth, yet not more certain either way what he wants to do here. He's half-tempted to flip a coin, but thinks that might make him feel even more stupid than he already does.

"So. We go home. We call this in. We get as ready as we can be ready."

"We pick up Christopher from the Ferguson's," Cas adds, squeezing Dean's hand.

"I'm making him that pizza he likes," Dean says, already planning out the dinosaur shape and the toppings he'll use, knowing he's going overboard to compensate for what Christopher won't even know is happening.

"I don't think I can eat," Cas says, and Dean has to agree with him, his stomach is too busy writhing in knots to take on any food.

"We'll... tell Christopher we're having dinner with... with—"

"Stuart," Cas supplies, grimacing. Dean thinks of the librarian Cas always does his best to avoid, and nods.

"That'll work. Christopher'll think we're both so tense because you don't like him," Dean says, trying to make light of the situation and failing.

"Yes."

"Let's... alright, Cas. Let's do this. You wanna... you call it in, and I'll drive us home?"

Cas sighs, his obvious reluctance slumping his shoulders as he leans to the side to pull his phone from his pocket.

* * *

"I feel sick."

Dean squeezes Cas' hand and ducks to look out through the windshield at the old clothes store again, thinking it looks that much creepier in the dark.

"Yes."

"Is this... we  _have_  to do this," Dean says, and it's as much a repeated instruction for himself as it is for Cas. They've been repeating it to each other ever since they came here earlier in the afternoon.

"We do," Cas agrees, with just as much hesitance and confusion in his voice as Dean is feeling himself.

It might be easier if Cas' call to David hadn't found him so dismissive. If David hadn't said that they were on their own if they wanted to deal with the vampires sooner rather than later, because he just couldn't justify the time to help. Dean might feel better if they hadn't had to tell so many lies to the people they love and trust to give them the cover to be sat here waiting to clear a nest of vampires, when what they'd normally be doing at this time of night involves nothing more stressful than being sprawled out on the couch.

They stare in silence together again, scoping out the best way into the store, and deciding on the back door Dean snuck in to before.

"How many do you think?" Cas asks, swirling his thumb over the back of Dean's hand.

"Well. I saw three. But that was only a quick look. We can't know for sure. There could more in the basement, the upstairs—"

"I suppose we cannot even know if Trevor was their only supplier of blood," Cas adds, and Dean groans for it.

"Don't say that, Cas."

"I suppose these two... attacks we heard about, at the shopping center and the hospital, are evenings when their thirst was... too much."

"Yeah," Dean agrees. "And whatever the story is with that vampire blood that was outside the zoo."

"We had no confirmation that was vampire blood," Cas points out, turning to smile at him.

"Well, they weren't about to announce it on the six o'clock news."

"I suppose. Though we do know that it most definitely wasn't human. Or mammal."

"Yeah," Dean says, turning back to look at the store again, and wincing at the beam of a headlight as a car passes then pulls in next to them.

"Perfect timing," Cas says, sounding pleased.

"It is. You think this is a little... overkill?" Dean says, nodding to Sam as he cuts the engine of his car and climbs out, as Mary does the same.

"Well. We are here to kill things," Cas says, smiling at him and leaning in for a kiss. "Plus, Sam and your mother would likely kill  _us_  if they discovered we were about to do this by ourselves."

Dean nods against him, kissing Cas again before getting out the car, and telling himself he isn't selfish for calling for backup.

"Hey," he calls softly to Sam as he joins them at the trunk of their car, wrapping Mary up in a hug.

"Hey."

"Thanks for doing this, man."

"Like we'd be anywhere else," Sam says, turning to raise an eyebrow at him before reaching out to squeeze his shoulder.

"How's Maura? And Eileen doing with all this?"

"Well," Sam says as he unzips a bag and digs through for holy water and some blades, one of which he hands to Mary. "Maura's fine with it. Clueless."

"She slept so long she almost missed her last bottle," Mary adds with a soft smile.

"She's not sick, is she?" Dean asks as Cas hands him the blades and water from their own trunk.

"No. Just sleeping a little longer. She had a couple of bad nights with a bad stomach, so I guess she's catching up."

"Right."

"Eileen," Sam says with a rueful smile, "is, uh... well, she's fine. Mad as hell that we're doing this, even if she's more mad that she couldn't come with."

Dean nods, and has no idea how to answer, looking once more over towards the store.

"Christopher?" Sam asks, and Dean unconsciously smiles for it, then feels a blow to his stomach again for the idea of leaving Christopher alone.

"Good. Got Josh at ours tonight. Think they were watching some kind of anime Josh is trying to get him into."

"Anime?" Sam says, turning to him with a small smile.

"Maybe not anime. I don't know, some kinda weird cartoon I couldn't make no sense of."

"Approximately how many minutes after we left do you think it was before Christopher was trying to convince Josh to bring the kittens into the house?" Cas asks, and Dean's pleased for it, lets himself laugh at imagining Christopher doing just that.

He doesn't even mind, Dean thinks, imagining the kittens scampering all over the house and Josh racing around to catch them all as Christopher whoops in unhelpful delight.

"So. At least three, maybe who knows how many more?" Sam says, coming to stand by Dean's side and looking at the store for himself.

"Yep. Got two entrances through single doors, front and back. Looks like glass all the way around both sides, so I guess they might break through."

"Well. If they've boarded them all up we've got to hope it'd at least slow them down getting through all of that," Sam says, and Dean hopes that's true.

"Yeah."

"So. Are we ready?" Mary asks, nodding towards the building, squaring her shoulders in determination.

Cas catches Dean's eye and smiles, nodding in what Dean thinks is reassurance. Dean nods back, and the four of them make their way across the street.

* * *

"Do we look okay?" Dean asks, and why they're whispering when they're still sat outside the house in the Impala, he doesn't know. But the residual adrenaline still pumping through him is putting him even more on edge, and Dean can't wait to get inside their home and be back to normal, put this whole damn thing behind them, and get on with their lives.

"Let me see," Cas says, and they check each other over, thankfully not finding any visible marks. Though they will have to inspect properly for cuts and bruises once they're inside.

"We're okay?" Dean asks again, waiting for Cas' nod before he carefully opens the car door and winces for the noise it makes.

Everything is so much louder for them trying so hard to be quiet. They creep up the steps, carefully unlocking the door and peering in before pushing it open further. Josh is wedged up half-asleep in the corner of the couch, but blinks himself awake and smiles as they come in.

"Hey," he calls out in a loud whisper before it's taken over by a yawn. "How was dinner?"

"Long. And... unpleasant," Cas answers softly.

"Oh. Well, that's not great."

"You had a good night?" Dean asks, angry that it's almost three in the morning and they've kept Josh awake all this time.

"Yeah. I was talking to some friends for a while," Josh says, waving towards his laptop that's open and on the coffee table, and from the looks of things playing a movie quietly. "Christopher came down for some water about eleven. Sat with me for maybe ten minutes then went back up to bed. I checked on him an hour ago."

"Can't tell you how grateful we are that you could help us out tonight," Dean says as he stretches, hiding his flinch for the slight twinge in his side.

"No problem—"

"Truly, Josh," Cas says as Josh sits more upright, "we appreciate it. So much."

"So. If you wanna crash out, your room's all set up," Dean says, waving towards the stairs. "And we're... well. I can't speak for Christopher, but I'm planning on sleeping in a little if we can. You stay in bed as long as you want."

"Sounds good," Josh agrees, yawning and stretching before closing his laptop and grabbing up the few things he has with him. "Goodnight."

"You want something to drink?" Dean asks once they've listened to Josh climbing the stairs, gesturing towards the kitchen.

Cas nods, presses his hands on Dean's back and gently pushes him to move. "Something cold."

"Beer? Soda? Milk?"

"Is there any of that iced tea?"

Dean ducks and peers into the fridge, moving things around and pulling out the jug he'd made earlier that afternoon just in case Cas would want some. "One iced tea coming up."

"After these," Cas says, and when Dean turns around he's holding out two tumblers each with a generous measure of scotch.

Why Cas wants both things to drink he doesn't question, just takes the offered glass before clinking it against Cas', and downing it in one. And stood there in their kitchen quietly drinking with Cas, Dean starts to feel calmer.

"Better," Dean says with a slight grimace, feeling the burn of the alcohol work its way down his throat.

"Medicinal," Cas replies, putting the tumblers in the sink and reaching for two tall glasses for their tea.

"Obviously."

"We have nothing we need to do tomorrow," Cas says as he holds the glasses out for Dean to fill.

"No. Lazy day all day if we want."

"We will see what Christopher wants to do."

"I feel like I'm gonna ache like hell tomorrow," Dean says, rolling his neck and already groaning.

"Perhaps a massage tomorrow night," Cas suggests as he reaches out to squeeze the back of Dean's neck right over the spot that's aching.

Dean leans into it, shaping Cas' thumb and finger to press a little harder and groaning softly for the relief of the pressure. "That's a great idea."

"But, now. Bed," Cas insists, nudging the bottom of Dean's glass for him to finish, and taking it from him to put in the sink.

They climb the stairs together, creeping into Christopher's room to check him over, smiling to find him spread out like a starfish and gently snoring, his covers kicked off and on the floor.

"He gets that from you," Cas whispers, and Dean is only prevented from giving too loud a retort because they don't want to wake him up.

"Yeah. 'cos you're the one who—"

Cas silences him with a kiss then tugs his fingers for them to leave, heading straight into their bathroom already pulling off his shirt.

"Off," he says, plucking at Dean's shirt as he bends to take off his shoes.

There are a few scratches on them both, and Cas will probably have a bruise on his shoulder blade in the morning. But compared with some of the disasters they once had covering their bodies after a hunt, neither of them look much of anything but tired. Thankfully both Sam and his mom looked like they had no worse injuries than either of them when they left. Dean quickly checks his phone and sends a message reminding Sam to let him know when they get back home.

"Quick shower?" Dean says, thumbs pointing towards it.

Cas nods, reaching out to start the water, and kicks their clothes to the corner of the room. "Tomorrow," he says before Dean can comment on the laundry hamper being downstairs.

Dean smiles, pulling him into the shower after him and straight into his arms. "I can't tell you how happy I am to be home right now."

"Me neither," Cas replies, smoothing his hands down Dean's back and leaning in for a kiss.

"Wasn't exactly a close call tonight, but. Close enough," Dean adds.

Cas' look back at him suggests it will be a long, long time before either of them take part in a hunt again, if ever, and Dean can't help but be glad for it.

They quickly soap each other up then rinse off, checking one another over and mumbling soothing nothings for the bumps and bruises they find. Then are stumbling with tiredness as they grab towels to dry themselves with, and hastily brush their teeth. Dean groans as he pulls back the cover and crawls into bed, wriggling and sighing in relief to be horizontal. "I'm getting old, Cas."

"Not that old," Cas replies, his hand sweeping down over Dean's chest and gripping around him briefly as he climbs in, leaning in for a kiss before he is slumping on his front with a soft, tired  _oof_.

"Maybe just less... bendy."

"I am sure we can test that theory tomorrow evening," Cas replies, turning his head and giving him a look of intent that makes Dean swallow hard despite how tired he feels.

"Yeah. Yeah, we'll do that," Dean says, sweeping the back of his hand down Cas' back and flipping it over to grab his ass, smiling when Cas wriggles against him for it.

"Tomorrow," Cas says, muffling the word into his pillow before he's turning over and depositing himself on Dean's chest.

"Sleep," Dean says, wrapping his arms around him and raising his head enough to kiss the top of Cas' before dropping it back in the pillow with a contented sigh. "Love you, Cas."

"I love you too," Cas replies, kissing it into his chest.

Dean raises his head for feeling Cas watching him and smiles at him in the near dark, reaching out to cup his face. Smiles harder when Cas moves his head to kiss his palm before settling on his chest once again with a soft sigh.

Dean stares up at the ceiling for a while going over their evening, reminding himself that Christopher is safe in his bed, and Cas is safe here in his arms. He feels the peace that's descended on his world creep back in from the corners it had retreated to with this whole vampire mess, and falls asleep perfecting recipes for things he wants to cook for the Fergusons when Martin and Rebecca arrive.

* * *

 


End file.
